


Confined: Contained

by Hadronix



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Beruka's Cold Demeanor, Camilla's Doting but Murderous Mentality, F/M, Gregor's hulking biceps, Libra's Endless Patience, Olivia is called Olivia because I couldn't think of a different name for Laslow's mother, Ophelia Dusk - Freeform, Part of Confined, Profanity, Selena's rough youth, Side Stories, The Love of Dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-10-28 11:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadronix/pseuds/Hadronix
Summary: A collection of side stories and viewpoints that couldn't make it into Confined due to it not being from Corrin's perspective. These simply add extra lore bits, nothing is required in here to understand Confined, it's here if you want it.





	1. For the Love of Dance

Dance… it is Laslow's only true reprieve as his time as Crown Prince Xander's retainer. It is the art that he has always been exceptional at. Partly due to his mother's insistence, mostly from his natural talent. While, for most he thinks, having a subject all but forced onto a child from their parent would paradoxically deter them from it, Laslow's fascination only grew the more his mother guided him.

And when there are few other joys that a Nohrian can have, he cherished every moment he could have with her. As with his mother, Olivia, he was born in the booming port city of Cyrkensia. He… unfortunately never knew his father. His father was one of the far too many who died under King Garon's role.

Without a proper father figure and a mother who had to work double time to keep them sustained, Laslow's youth was a lonely one. There were so many other children in the same position as he, and there still are. The difference? His mother. She led Cyrkensia's dance unit. The 'elite' that brought nobles and royalty for their performances.

These were all things he merely heard, never seen. Simply being the son of the leader for dance didn't mean he could get in free. Even Olivia could never secure him a ticket before they sold out. Nobles would send gold weeks, even months ahead to have a seat. Laslow could only imagine how something could be so desirable. The gold in total sent dwarfed his mother's yearly pay. Most went to building related costs.

His mother and he would only see a fraction of that.

While yes, his youth was filled with far more than the basic necessities. Pristine carpets, chandeliers, the colors of purple and light blue dominated their large house. But, there was a problem.

He couldn't buy more family time with gold. Mother would leave early, arrive late, and the whole day spared maybe an hour for mother-son time. And that time was mostly spent dancing. For even an entire day's worth of dancing never killed her spirit for it. Had she the stamina, she would rarely stop. Dancing brought her mood through the roof, laughter would come out in waves, her eyes sparkled, she would extend a hand to him, an invitation for the joy of dance.

Even when he stumbled, she smiled. Nothing ever brought her down when she danced… And nothing ever brings him down when he dances. The joy he felt couldn't be described with simple words. To even think that a sentence could convey his feelings would be a disservice to it.

How can one describe absolute perfection? The pinnacle of ecstasy? To feel like he is with the Dragon Gods themselves?

No, he would never use words. He would rather express through dance.

Then, why would a dancing prodigy swear an oath to defend the son of the king who caused so much grief?

…

He had no choice. It started when his mother began coming home earlier and leaving to the amphitheater later. It started when she finally wanted to have him learn the last few untaught dances she knows.

* * *

Laslow awoke early, as he has come to do, to spend that precious half hour with Olivia. While he would have simply thrown an outfit together, since more time looking 'nice' meant less time with her, his mother would already look ready to perform.

She would wear an outfit that complimented her feminine attributes. And blue, the colors were always some shade of blue. She dyed a portion of her hair a deep navy blue, while the rest remained its rather unusual natural pink.

"Are… you ready for a dance?" Despite being a master performer, she always became small before she started.

"I am." He smiled, which puts her at ease.

"I'm… I told you that there are a few I haven't taught you yet, right?"

It took him a moment, but he nodded, "You insisted that I needed to be older."

"R-right." She twiddles her hair with a finger. "I'm going to show you one of them today."

"I'm always ready to learn…"

"Son, trust me," She interrupts with a gentle smile, "You'll only need to see these last few a single time. There's no practicing involved." His disbelief is written all over his face, and she giggles. "'Prelude to the Waves'." She says, "that's the name of the first one." Somehow, his mother, in that moment, changed.

It wasn't her smile, the joy in her eyes, her posture, and not her clothing. No, there was something else, a sense he couldn't place. Feeling a sudden pressure on his chest, he gulps and nods. "I'm ready."

"Good. Well, like I said, 'Prelude to the Waves'." It… began slowly, her moments slow, but fluid. No energy was wasted, everything flowed into the next. Every moment, he expected for the tempo to shoot up, but it never did. That entire dance routine stayed slow, like it was a warm-up… And then it hits him.

Like it was the calm before the storm. "That…" He breathed a deep breath, since he forgot to breathe during her performance.

She stumbled back and smiled, "I'll be back after work. I love you, son."

"I love you, too, Mother." Perhaps he was too taken aback by the performance to notice the way she started heaving for breaths, or how she wasn't walking as gracefully as she normally would. He just knew that he saw one of the most spectacular dances she has ever performed. Which lead to one outcome.

He did the same, time and time again while she was at work. As she said, he was able to mirror the movements one for one the first time, no amount of repetition made it any smoother than it already was. It's like… he's known it all of his life.

* * *

As usual, his mother came back tired, but satisfied. By now, her hair bands have came undone, some of the short-term navy blue dye in her hair has faded, and her sweat has removed the makeup, but she still looked every bit as the mother he loves. Especially when she started smiling, "The… second part, okay?" She timidly approached him, her fingers working into her dress.

"Of course." He returns the smile. "Does this one have a name, too?"

"'The Tides that Change'." Again, Olivia is… different.

"Do these last dances have special meaning for you, mother?"

She opened her mouth, but then closed it and shook her head, "It's not that…" She looks away, "I'll tell you later, okay?" Laslow simply nods. "'The Tides that Change'." She repeats.

As with the last, her movements start slow, some of the previous moves make their way here, too. However, she has finally hit that 'beat' that he assumed would have happened last time. Gone were the slow, carefully-constructed painting, and in comes a fast-paced whirlwind that has even her sweating quite intensely. Yet, at the same time, not matter how quickly she went from one portion to the next, it still came out fluidly. Nothing was forced or fixed. To him, it ended all too soon. And again, she stutters back, drained…

Still with that smile on her face, the light in her eyes, the woman who loves dance above all, with her son higher than dance. She puts a passion into her movements that even the best of the best would envy. "That was…" He cuts himself off, no. There were no words that could be said, he doesn't know if there ever could be words to describe her performance. "I still don't understand why I needed to be this old to learn them."

"It's… not about age, actually." She admits while taking a seat. She's far more tired than she would normally be. "There are actually a lot things I never told you."

"I'm sure you're just waiting for the right time, right?" He asks.

"...That's just it, son." Her mouth forms a thin line, but doesn't quite dip into a frown, "I don't think I can wait for the 'right time'. I'm going to need to teach you these things soon."

"Mother…? I don't like how this is being phrased." Laslow feels a cold sweat drip down his neck, "You aren't leaving me, are you?"

"Gods no!" She quickly shakes her head, "It's just…" She yawns, "Maybe tomorrow? After I rest?"

"Of course, don't push yourself too hard." He offers a gentle smile. However, even after they share a hug and a gentle 'good-night' kiss, he couldn't help but notice the fact of how tired she is. And it's not like they were dancing for an hour without break, she only showed off a single, maybe five minute, dance. Which also meant that he didn't get to spend the entire time with her.

He may love dance, but what is so truly important with these last ones that has her sacrificing what little time they have together?

* * *

The next morning was like yesterday never happened. Olivia awaited for Laslow as he got up, the two danced the other 'normal' dances, she said her goodbyes as she went to work, and he is left alone for a number of hours. Despite the house being able to contain several more than Olivia and Laslow, there were no Butlers or Maids to speak of. The sad truth is that they wouldn't be able to afford one. Off for his first set of chores, Laslow would go through and clean what he could. After that? Well, there's dancing.

While he does have a bit of spare gold, he'd rather hold on to it. He has spent the bare minimum of his allowances, since both dancing and the time with his mother gave him all he could ask for. For a moment, he thought of walking around outside, maybe look at the canals. Perhaps he would stop by his favorite spot for tea? Nodding to himself, he switched out his hastily gathered bundle of clothes for something far more presentable. Gone were the random, mismatched shirt and pants, and on came a suit of sorts.

Unlike mother's admittedly revealing dance-wear, Laslow wore something far more covering. However, like his mother's dance-wear, he too went with the shades of blue. A deep navy blue dominated the outer coat, for when the cold began to bite, it's said that if it becomes particularly cold, then the Ice Dragon that controls the area around the Ice Tribe goes uneasy, sending blasts of chilling air that can span the entirety of the world.

Those who don't believe that say it's simply the 'weather'.

Laslow felt more towards the former.

His pants held a few shades lighter than his outer coat, they even have the design of small waves stitched around the knee area. His shirt looked the closest to the ocean blue. White gloves, to represent the foam from the sea when it splashes against the coast. Finally there are his shoes, a shade of blue between his pants and shirt, looking more akin to the sky than the sea.

With his favorite set of clothing on, with his small amount of gold in his pocket, he sets out. The first thing that would hit him is the smell of the canal. The waters were always clear, always clean. It was not uncommon to have people actually swim in them, as long as you parted for when a canoe came by. Around his home held other houses, most of them at least looks as well-made as his mother's.

What did his father do, exactly? Olivia always tried to skirt around that topic. Was she ashamed of what father did? He wasn't a criminal, right? Literally all he knows about his father is that he got his brown hair from him, though a number of his mother's unusual natural pink hair started to pop up. Was his father tough? Did he dance? Maybe sing? Or was he the more muscular sort, a blacksmith? A soldier? He resolved on asking her again tonight, at least why she doesn't want to talk about him.

Shaking his head and placing a smile on his face, he walks out of the immediate residential area and into the marketplace. Even from here, the amphitheatre stood tall, a building far larger than it had any right to be. Was it larger than a castle? He couldn't say, but he can say that it dwarfs all the other buildings he's ever seen. Continuing his walk, he goes past all of the stalls, where many holds trinkets, souvenirs from the port city. Which, a number of those pay tribute to his mother's dance team. A dance team he'll probably never get to actually see.

A turn here, a bridge there, and he ends up at one of the local cafes. Taking his seat, he calls over the server and places his usual order, a simple cup of tea alongside a few snacks. Turning around, he looks at the flowing canal, the water that ever seems to sparkle. A few people are actually in it right now. However, out of all of them, one stands out, literally. A single lady refuses to get in, crossing her arms as she looks at the others. Considering how much hair she has, she must be of nobility. Twin pigtails that run the course of almost her entire body. The torrent of red hair stops below her waist. A shortsword is strapped to her side, and she has a small buckler on her right shoulder. It didn't take much to notice that she must be pretty strong, especially considering she looks to be about his age.

Reality brought him back when the waiter came in with his order, "I haven't seen her before." He states, he doesn't need to look to know the waiter. It isn't a large cafe, after all.

"Me either." She replies in kind. "A tourist probably."

He hums, "I'm thinking more of a traveler, she has a sword."

"Oh… you're right." A pause, "Oh, excuse me." She goes to undoubtedly another order.

Laslow takes a moment to sip his tea, followed by a single bite to a snack. While it is rude to stare, he finds himself unable to break his gaze on this red-hair woman. Well… if she isn't going to go swimming. "I'll be back shortly." He turns to the owner for a moment, who gives him an affirming nod. Still, wanting to show gratitude, he places some gold ahead of time, letting him know that it's for the tip. Laslow walks over to the edge, where this woman has yet to budge, acting more the bodyguard than a young teenager. "Hello, ma'am." He greets.

She continues to stare ahead, overlooking the ones swimming in the canal… maybe she is a bodyguard? No, he internally shakes his head, she's far too young to hold a job like that. "Is there a reason you're just standing there?" She finally asks, ironically right when he was about to return to the tea cafe.

"I couldn't help but notice how you aren't joining the others. The canal water here of the highest quality." It wasn't a boast, it's simple fact.

"I don't like swimming." She flatly states.

Ah, that would explain why she refuses to get in, "Then perhaps you would like to join me for a cup of tea?"

"I'm busy." She has yet to even spare a look his way.

He feels an urge, "Perhaps later, then?" He feels like there's more than just her current prickly behaviour.

"I'll be busy then, too."

"Tomorrow?" He tries one last time.

"Look, I'm always busy, alright?!" She finally snaps back, "So stop asking!" For that last bit, she looks his way, with a glare that burns right through him.

Finally able to see her face, he is doubly sure she looks far too young to be an actual bodyguard. Yet, even this young, there is a fire in her eyes, she too, has a passion. Her eyes seem to burn a brighter red than her own hair. "My apologies, miss…?" Yet, even with all of these thorns on her, even with her fiery shell, he can't deny there is a beauty in that, too.

"Selena." She replies after a hesitation.

"My name is Laslow." He offers in kind. "I'm sorry to have bothered you so much." He takes a few steps away to…

"Hey, Laslow." She speaks up. "I'm not saying I want to, but I might have some free time tomorrow." Her gaze is back over the canal, watching over the other children splash about.

"Trust me, you won't regret it."

She scoffs, "Yeah, sure. I'm only doing this because you offered." If Laslow could actually see her face, he would have seen a small smile form, but he had already turned around and made his way back to the cafe before he could see that.

She's… interesting.

* * *

Olivia returned far more tired than usual. Laslow actually had to assist her as she stumbled through the door and almost to the floor. "Mother!" He cries out, "What's wrong?"

"Oh… we're just practicing for the… big performance in a few days." She breaths, still showing off that entrancing smile.

Oh right, the yearly dance is coming up, and while she's always been more tired around this time, she is far more exhausted this year. "You aren't straining yourself, are you? Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, son. You're so wonderful." She hides a giggle behind her hand as she is finally stable enough to stand, "Maybe some tea, if it's not too much to ask?"

He smiles, "Of course it isn't. Please, relax while I brew some up." Olivia gently walks over to the nearest chair, and ungracefully plops down on it. Attempting to hide a concerned look, Laslow goes into the kitchen and starts up the tea kettle, mixing in a relaxing blend, something to help soothe the body. While it heats up, he also grabs a few snacks, handpicking ones that will best suit the tea. He places the last snack right as the tea finishes its own preparations, perfectly timed. One kettle, two cups, and a tray's worth of snacks in hand, he goes back into the living room, where Olivia seems to be fighting to stay awake.

It hurts him to see her this tired. "Oh… thank you." Still, she smiles, the sparkle is still in her eyes, the grace is still there. "This smells wonderful, you were always so good at making tea." She holds the decorated teacup close to her chest, relishing in both the warmth of the cup and the aroma the tea produces. In this position, she seems more a child clutching a cherished toy than a mother. "Mmm, delicious." She breathes a sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair. "And you always think ahead, don't you?" She's undoubtedly referring to the soothing effects of the tea.

"I can't just stand aside, watching you so drained." He admits as he adds just a pinch of sugar into his, dipping a small biscuit shortly after.

She smiles, "I'm sure whichever woman you end up with is special, to have a man as considerate as you."

His face burns, "Mother…" He looks away, embarrassed at her rather bold statement. She usually isn't so blunt with her praises. "Speaking of women, actually." Her growing smile leads him to the conclusion that she's about to get the wrong idea, "I-I just meant I met one today, she's a traveler, I guess."

"How is she?" The teasing ended and she is genuinely curious. "She must really stand out if you're bringing up a tourist."

"Well…" From there, he recounts the day's events, going into rather great detail about the prickly, fiery woman who calls herself Selena. "So, she ultimately agreed for some tea tomorrow."

Olivia simply offers him her best smile, "Had I the time, I would like to meet her. Thorns and all." She giggles, looking far more refreshed than she did when she came in.

Despite the good humor, he couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. How many other children see their parents so little? Olivia spends most of her days working, while her child grows up. How much does it hurt her? To miss so much of his life? What would they do if she didn't have to spend the entire day working? Would they walk the market? Swim in the canals? Would he still be a regular member of the local cafe? Would he have met Selena?

"Well… maybe after the yearly performance is over?" He offers, "Aren't the performers given an extra bit of time after?"

She nods, "But only because it is such a strenuous festival." Despite it, she smiles, "However, I can always make time for you, son." She yawns soon after, probably due more to the tea's soothing effects. "At least I can say I'll sleep well tonight." She grabs a snack, and more nibbles on it, than actually biting into it. Her shoulders have slouched, and she seems to have sunk even further the plush chair. Even her eyes are starting to droop closed.

"Shall I help you…" He didn't even get to finish that sentence before her eyes have already closed, tea and biscuit still in hand. Smiling to himself, he places his own cup down, and first grabs the cup and biscuit before her grip ends up falling and it gets over her dress. Placing those aside, he carefully and very gently helps his already sleeping mother up. Come to think of it, this happens about the same time, before and after the yearly festival. He'll help her get to bed since she's just so tired.

Gently breathing, Laslow guides his mother to her room, parting the covers and lying her down, and only removing her shoes. "Good night, mother. I love you." He places a simple kiss on her forehead, before bringing the covers up and leaving her room, gently closing her door. Olivia may look her happiest when she dances, but she at her most peaceful when she sleeps. Yawning himself, he too, prepares for bed, but giving himself just enough time for a single dance.

* * *

Mother, while up before him as usual, looks less ready to go, but it isn't visible, he isn't sure how he knows, but he does. "Are you ready for the third dance?" She asks, that sparkling smile on her face, the light in her eyes renewed.

"Yes, I am." He refrained from asking the name.

"'The Storm Approaches'." She supplies. Like how with 'The Tides that Change' started where 'Prelude to the Waves' ended, 'The Storm Approaches' starts off with that wild, fast pace where 'The Tides that Change' finished off. This third dance mixes in the first two, one moment she'll jerk around, shake her hips, throw her arms, the next she's moving ever so slowly… like when the eye of the storm is overhead. Again and again, fast and slow, fast and slow.

And like the others, it seems to end too early. "Gods, mother…" He breathes.

"These… are all part of one larger dance." She says, which makes sense. "It's… actually normally done with more. At least, that's what mother told me."

His grandmother… Olivia told him she was the one who introduced her to dance, as her mother before her. "Are these familial dances, then? Ones exclusive to our family?"

She pauses, looking uncertain. "You can… say it like that, yes." She suddenly looks smaller, as if she's crossing into territory she shouldn't. "I should… get going."

Now that she mentions it, "You're going to be late, aren't you?" He just now notices the time.

She slowly nods, "They'll understand, it is that time of year, after all. I love you, son." She plants a quick kiss on his forehead, the smell of her perfume being very noticeable.

"I love you too, mother." He replies in kind as she leaves. Still, she does seem more tired than usual, is this year's performance more grand than usual? Is all the royalty coming to watch this time? It occurs to him that he only knows of King Garon, nothing of his wife or children, other than the fact he knows of their existence. Shaking his head, he too, prepares for today. Not just to a trip to the local tea cafe, but for also having Selena with him there. Perhaps a cup of tea will dull those thorns?

* * *

Selena was… actually there before him, even though he arrived early. "Selena?" He asks.

"Laslow." She replies without looking, as if ashamed she agreed to this.

"You're early."

"So are you." Still prickly. "I don't have a lot of time, after all, so can we go?" Despite the question, she walks into the cafe without waiting.

He quickly follows suit. He notices that she still has that sword by her waist, the buckler on her shoulder. She even still has her armor on. "The usual, please." He politely requests, earning a strange look from Selena. "I'm a frequent customer." He supplies with a smile.

"Oh." Is all she says.

"So, do you travel?"

"Yeah."

"How far have you traveled? How many places have you seen?" His interest is piqued, as he's only heard of other places through the tourists and books.

"I don't know. I don't sightsee." Well, that just killed that line of conversation.

"Well… where did you come from?"

"An abandoned shelter, with only my father for company." Oh, well that might explain her lack of social etiquette.

"I noticed that you have a complete set of armor and a weapon, aren't you a bit young to fight?"

She locks a glare at him, "I grew up in a place of constant danger, of course I know how to fight." A beat passes, "How does it feel? Growing up with all of this security? Being pampered by family and having all of these things?"

"...lonely." He admits while graciously accepting the tea and biscuits.

"How?! You have all of these… things around you!" She gestures at the buildings.

"It's true, I have all of these materialistic possessions. But, I never knew my father, and my mother works nearly the entire day. I could buy all of these things, but all I want is more time with my mother. If I stayed at home, I would be as isolated as your abandoned shelter." He pauses, feeling the pang of sorrow hit him, "There aren't many my age around me."

"...oh." She deflates, clearly not expecting that answer. "When you put it that way…" She takes a sip of the tea, not wanting to continue. As such, it continued in an awkward silence. Only the sounds of sipping tea and biting into the snacks was heard. Even the owner cleaning the glasses held a louder sound than they. "This was… nice, I guess." She looks away, as if embarrassed to admit it. "Never expected someone to have the guts to do this for me. It's… nice."

"I'm glad to have invited you, then." He offers his best smile. "Would it be too much to…"

"I won't be here tomorrow, so no." Is… she actually crying? Laslow catches the shine of a tear leaving her eye, and she ever so slightly shakes. "It's not fair." She quietly adds.

"Oh." He says, "Will you…"

"I don't know." She interrupts again, "I travel, remember?" She still refuses to look his way.

"Well… I hope I made a good impression, Selena." He tries to bring the mood up, "If you ever find yourself here again, I'll be more than happy to do this again."

"...thanks, Laslow." She mutters, "I have to go." She abruptly gets up, her tea half-drank, her biscuit only with two bites in. A frown made its way on his face. How tough did Selena have it? Could he really claim to have the same?

* * *

Laslow returns to the house and prepares himself for when… "Mother?" She's home… early? "Is everything alright?" Like with yesterday, she's already slouched on the chair, looking far more tired than she had any right to be. "Gods, if I known you would already be back."

"It's… alright." She sighs, "We're just finishing up the last touches."

"You weren't this tired last year." He points out.

She slowly nods, "King Garon and his two sons. King Sumeragi, his wife, his three sons and his two daughters, are all coming this time." She somehow sinks even further into the chair.

"All of them? Then… wouldn't that mean you and your group would need more practice?"

"We can't, we're doing the same ones I'm teaching you." Ah, that's right. Somehow they are the dances that you only need…

"But, you told me you didn't need to practice them."

She bites her lip, caught in a lie. "Most of us don't, there are a few members who do."

"...Mother? Is everything alright?" His concern is heavily evident.

"How was your time spent with Selena?" She abruptly changes the topic, in an almost panicked attempt.

Still, he rather go along with it. She doesn't need the added stress of him being stubborn. "After I got through the prickly exterior, she's actually really nice to be around."

She lightly giggles, "Oh, so she's that type."

"She won't be here tomorrow, though. She already has to leave."

"Oh…" A yawn is added soon after. Olivia slowly rises, "I… need to rest. Good night, son. I love you." She weakly smiles.

"I love you too, mother." The second she turns away is the second he frowns. There is something more going on.

* * *

Again, like with yesterday, Olivia was late to leave, but unlike yesterday, she spent the morning relaxing. No dancing… at all. And she looked all the worse for it. "Mother…" He voices his concern.

"I'm sorry." She replies, "I'm not doing good of a job as a mother, am I?" For the first time in a long time, a frown forms on her face.

"It's… just this time of year, that's all." He tries to comfort her. "I wouldn't dream of having anyone else as my mother."

"Even if I'm rarely around?" She's still downcast.

"Even if you're rarely around."

A smile, however small it is, comes on her face, "I… needed to hear that, thank you." She rises, "Well, I should get going."

"I love you, mother." He gets out first.

"I love you too, son." With their familial affection traded, she leaves once more. Laslow, once again, decides to go to the local tea cafe. Not just for his usual, but he thinks he is also going to get some high quality tea leaves, if he can. With that in mind, he heads out once more.

The streets of Cyrkensia are starting to get more and more traffic, as the yearly dance comes closer and closer. The booming port becomes even louder. Yet, paradoxically, Laslow feels even more alone than before. So many new faces, so many different personalities. Nohrians and Hoshidans alike fill the pavement… and it's apparent on the differences. Cyrkensia may be a neutral city, it can't stop the animosity. He can feel the tension between the groups.

"The usual, please." He politely requests as he enters the now-crowded cafe. "And um… are there any high-quality tea leaves available? I want to brew an extra special kettle for my mother when she gets back today."

The waiter smiles, "You are always so considerate for her, Laslow. And yes, we do."

"I… hope I have enough, then." He undoes his pouch and…

"Laslow, my boy." The owner himself stops by his table, somehow hearing him over the crowd. "Put that pouch away." Laslow stops mid-tug.

"It would be wrong to not pay you, sir."

"It would be wrong to charge you for something that Olivia herself will drink to soothe." He counters with a smile. "I insist."

"...Then at least let me offer a tip."

He chuckles, it's deep and hearty, "Alright, I give. But just a tip." He pats the waiter on her shoulder, "She's getting it, though." With that, he walks away.

"I'll have your order and leaves ready shortly." She bows before she too, leaves. Smiling to himself, Laslow waits.

And right as he gets comfortable, the crowd around him shushes, he also gets a sudden tingly feeling, a powerful presence enters the area. "Part way." The voice sternly states, leaving no room for argument. "I've been told this is the best Cyrkensia has to offer for tea." The man's words are calm, composed. Laslow turns and sees an exquisitely dressed man. His clothes are of the absolute highest quality, at first glance, Laslow would say they are worth as much as his very house. He stands tall, blonde hair brushed down perfectly.

The man is a mage, he notes as he carries with him a tome that sports an etching of a tree on it. It took a moment for Laslow to notice that is where the feeling of power is coming from, not the man himself. "Welcome, Prince Leo." The owner kneels. "I assure you, all the goodwill you heard of this teashop are true."

"I best hope so." He undoes a sack on his belt, brimming with more gold than Laslow could see in half a year's pay, "I only have the best, after all."

"Any preference on flavor, Prince? I offer every tea for every taste."

"Calm. Like the still of nighttime." He simply supplies.

"At once." The man rises, bows, then goes back to the kitchen.

It wasn't until Prince Leo sat down that Laslow remembered how to breathe. Prince Leo… so he is one of King Garon's sons. He gulped, his presence is certainly overwhelming. Unlike with Selena, he made sure to break off his stare before he was caught. Leo's calm feels so much more dangerous than Selena's fire. "Laslow…" The waiter returns, quickly and quietly, "I'm… sorry." She suddenly admits, "We're unable to get you the tea leaves you wanted. It went to Prince Leo's order." She offers him a small bag, regardless, "These are as close as I can get."

...Even though he ordered first? "It's… alright." He tries to sound calm about it, "Thank you." With that, she nods and nearly bolts towards the kitchen. Does royalty always get this kind of treatment? Prince Leo is the first one he has ever seen. Do all of them emit this kind of presence? This sense of rule? He tries to calm himself by occupying himself with his tea and snacks, trying very hard to not be overwhelmed by the sheer factor of Lord Leo's aura.

"Here you go, Prince Leo of Nohr." He overhears the owner say. "I serve this to you with the best I can offer. All of my experience goes with this."

"Hmph." Is all he offers. A moment passes, then another, "I can see why this cafe is so reputable." For some reason, a wave of relief washes over Laslow. "Here." A thunk follows after, undoubtedly the gold in his pouch. One glance shows that Lord Leo just gave the man half of his sack of gold! He just carelessly paid several hundred pieces of gold for a single cup's worth of tea! The sheer fact that he is able to spend so much in one sitting baffles Laslow.

Again, Laslow takes a breath, before he passes out from lack of air. He suddenly felt the urge to leave, lest Lord Leo's mere presence crushes him. He tries to quickly down the rest of his tea, finish off his biscuits, and leaves, along with the gold coins on the table. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

In the streets, Laslow didn't even make it half-way before yet another presence entered the area. While Lord Leo's emitted calm, this one was of sterness, a wall that cannot be budged. Atop an armored horse held a rider, clad in full armor. He also has a circlet around his head, a crown. Also sporting blonde hair, this man rides tall. A blade rests on his side, almost as long as he is tall. Despite his youthful teenager body, he looks to have the strength of the best soldier. "Stand aside." His voice booms, even though he said so at a normal tone.

"Crown Prince Xander." Several people gasp, moving aside and kneeling. Crown Prince… so he is the first son of King Garon. This man of stature rode his horse as if he owned the place…

Then looked straight at Laslow. The dancing prodigy locked in place, as if the gaze alone turned him into stone. For the third time, he forgot how to breathe. "You, boy." Ironic, considering the Crown Prince doesn't look too much older, "Name."

"My name is Laslow, Crown Prince Xander of Nohr." He quickly says, not sounding too composed.

"Laslow…" He repeats. What did Laslow have that so quickly caught his attention? "You're the son of Olivia." Oh… right.

"I am, Crown Prince." With that, the man guides his horse towards him, before his dismounts. As he assumed, the man looks not much older, and he only stands a few inches taller. Laslow immediately kneels.

"This is my first time in Cyrkensia." He starts, "As the son of the grand performer, could you humor me with an example of what I will see tomorrow night?"

But… he doesn't know what all mother will be performing! Well, since she mentioned the latest ones… "If that is what you desire, milord." Which one? Would he prefer the slow? Fast? A mix? All three?! Externally, Laslow is somehow keeping his cool, but inside he is panicking.

"Then rise, I wish to see one."

As if his command causes him to move, Laslow does just that. Taking the man's stern nature into consideration, he does with 'The Prelude to the Waves'. Sternness with calm…

And thankfully, it seems Laslow has chosen the right one. "Impressive." The man admits. "I'll admit, I am now at least interested in tomorrow's performance." He climbs atop his horse once more, "Good day, Laslow."

"My best for you, Crown Prince." He holds a bow until the man is out of sight, and it is only when his presence is completely gone that he breathes.

"Gods, that was amazing." He was praised. "How did you do it?" Came the questions. "You kept your composure around the Crown Prince himself!"

Clutching his bag of tea leaves closer, "I love to dance." He simply replies, "Now please, excuse me. I have a kettle of tea to brew for my mother for when she returns." Amusingly enough, the people parted for him. It's a strange feeling, to have the masses conform for him so willingly.

* * *

Again, his mother was already there, half-asleep as is. "You're home early again, mother." He says, while showing off his bag of almost-highest quality tea leaves. "I got the special ones for tonight."

"You… didn't have to." She gently smiles.

"But I wanted to. Tomorrow is the big day."

She giggles, "That it is." Laslow walks into the kitchen as preps the tea, "It's going to be really taxing tomorrow." She calls out, "I don't think I'll even be awake enough to spend this time with you when I get back."

Inside, Laslow's heart aches. "I… understand. The yearly performance always leaves you exhausted."

"Which is why I'm showing you the last dance tonight." Laslow keeps his composure as his mixes in the tea leaves. "I'll be right back." He didn't even get a chance to respond before the door opened and closed. It wasn't until a few minutes after he had the tea and snacks ready did she return with… water pails in tow? "Thank you, son." She accepts the cup, "I'm… going to need this, tonight."

"Don't strain yourself, please." He says.

She smiles, "It's alright. I'm doing what I love for the one I love the most. I'll be fine." She places the water pails beside her. One to her left, one to her right, and one more to the very far right. "This… is supposed to be done with a second, but I don't have one."

"I wish I could, then."

She shakes her head, "I don't mean a dancer, I meant a singer. At least, that is what mother told me." She nervously twirls her hair. "'Alone in the Waves', is what's it's called without the singer."

"And with the singer?" He asks.

"'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone." She smiles.

"Neither sound too…" Too what? He isn't sure.

She slowly nods, "All of the ones I shown you are important in their own way. But this one is more so, I'm only performing this because it needs to be passed down. None of these are ones you perform just to do, they each have their meanings, their significance." He casts his mind back to when he did the first one for Crown Prince Xander… so, that wasn't the right thing to do? "Are you ready?"

"Yes, mother." He nods and gulps.

"Alright… 'Alone in the Waves'." The beat is slow to start, even slower than 'The Prelude to the Waves'. Every movement seems to take an eternity. Slide, stretch, it looks more to be initial exercises as to prevent cramps, rather than a dance. She closes her eyes and picks up the speed… before slowing down. Fast, slow, fast, slow. Nothing comes out stiff, always flowing from one to the next. The beat steadily increases, movements become rapid, faster and faster until she reaches the fastest he has ever... She slows. Another slow part, back to the start. This calm didn't last as long, as she sped up then… she hit the left pail?

Water splashed out, but it never did hit the floor, instead it became suspended. Laslow pinched himself so he could breathe… how? Magic? She does the same to the right bucket, and that water too, starts floating. Olivia starts to rely more on her arms than legs, complicated gestures performed without a hitch, the water droplets rise. They dance around her, leaving behind small trails, sparkling in the light. More water rises from the pails on their own. Her eyes re-open… and they seem to glow, or maybe it's the water around her?

Her midsection starts to move around more like her arms, while her legs remain slower. Shake, shake, thrust, spin, she has even started to hum, completely lost in her own dance… Alone in the Waves. A single dancer oblivious of all else. Finally, her legs join in with the rest of the wild movements, and even more water rises. Entire rings of water surround her, whipping by as if it's a whip. Spin, spin, twist, twirl, more water surrounds her, forming a barrier of sorts, a bubble. A beauty inside a sphere of water. Sparkling and shining.

Laslow pinches himself again, as he keeps forgetting to breathe normally. And how could he? The sight is so entrancing. It's… beyond perfection, it's a level that he is having trouble comprehending. And unlike the rest, this one doesn't feel like it ended too early, no…

It ended right on time. Olivia stops, the water is sent out in torrents, and she holds a pose. The room is plastered with the water, but nothing is ruined. Even the water that slammed onto Laslow felt… purifying. Whatever stress he held was gone, he felt at peace… like he does when he dances.

Then Olivia collapses, spent in a manner that made her seem energetic earlier. "Mother? Gods, mother!"

"I… was too into it." She admits with a smile. "But… it was worth it." Laslow heaves a heavy grunt as he helps her up… she's practically limp. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have you?"

"In many ways… but never so directly." He says, face laced with concern.

"I love you, son." She says as he guides her to her room.

"I love you too, mother." he replies in kind as he assist her into bed, removing her shoes for her. She reaches up to stroke his hair while he tucks her in. "Good night, mother."

"Good night, son." She already looks so peaceful…

So why did it hurt so much to leave the room?

* * *

"Son? Laslow?" He felt his shoulder being shook, Olivia standing over him. "Come on."

"Hm?" He groans as he shakes the sleepiness away, "What's wrong?"

"I'm… taking you with me. To the performance." At that, his eyes shot open. "I might need help getting back."

When he rises and looks her in the eyes, she looks so exhausted, already. "Will I get to see…?"

Sadly, she shakes her head, "Not directly. The… music is beautiful all the same." She offers in consolation.

"Will that one song play?"

"Yes, we'll be performing 'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone." She looks tired as she says that. "Now come on, get ready." With a sudden energy surge, Laslow gathers his best as his mother leaves his room. While he is disappointed that he won't get to actually see her perform, to simply be in the amphitheater will be enough to soothe his curiosity… this time.

"I'm ready." He proudly proclaims as he leaves his room, with mother waiting near the door. She gives him that beautiful smile and they depart together.

"You'll be able to look from the sidelines." She amends, "You'll be able to see some of it, but once the beat picks up, we'll have to move up and onto the front."

"Being in the same area will be enough for me, mother." It's a small lie, but since it got her to smile, it's a lie he's willing to tell. "I love you, mother."

"I love you too, son." Strangely, the streets were near barren, reaching an almost ghost-town state. Only a handful of people walked. Internally, Laslow was thankful, it meant that those powerful presences wouldn't be here…

"Um, excuse me." A vibrant red-hair woman approaches them. Unlike with Selena's gracious amounts of hair, this woman's has hers cut short, looking more like a tomboy than a girl. "I don't suppose you've seen my little brother? A little short than me, lighter gray hair, maybe wielding a toy bow?"

Olivia shakes her head, "I'm sorry, we haven't." Laslow offers. "If we see him, we'll tell him you're looking for him, miss…"

"Hinoka. Princess Hinoka of Hoshido." Princess? She lacks the same foreboding presence as Leo and Xander. Her aura is more… comforting. "His name is Takumi, by the way. And thanks!" Despite being a princess, she seems well-built, like she spends more time training that acting the princess. She happily waves as she resumes her search, calling out Takumi in an increasingly aggravated tone, seeming to not care if she sounds rude or un-lady-like.

"She's nice." His mother says, "Oh! We should hurry." Nodding in agreement, Olivia and Laslow picked up their pace.

* * *

Laslow thought the streets yesterday were loud, but the amphitheater proved that wrong. Thousands of conversations echoed in the walls, each trying to outdo the other so their conversation partner could be heard. Being unable to actually look out, his mind could only imagine just how many people are out there. The place is sold out, after all. "Hey, it's alright." Mother looked even more extravagant than normal. Bells, earings, regular rings, makeup, she had it all. Looking the best for the best performance from an audience that expects the best of the best.

"How are you not buckling under the pressure? I'm not even performing and I can feel all of it on me."

"Would you like to hear something, then?" She twirls her hair.

"From you? Anything?"

"I'm really nervous." She giggles at herself, "Just focus on the dance, and the world fades. Have fun." She smiles.

"Right, of course." He knew that, "How could I forget?"

"Olivia? It's time." Her group called her out, each as well dressed as their leader.

"Of course!" She squeaks, "I'll see you in a few hours. I love you, son."

"I love you too, mother." Two shared kisses on each other's cheeks, and she was off. A pit still formed in his stomach… she looks tired.

As she said he could, he stood on the sidelines, hidden from all eyes. Olivia shares a single loving look at him before the curtains rise. The announcer started saying his piece, first quieting the audience, then proceeds to get them as excited as possible. Another group of women came from the other side at this point. They were similarly dressed, but their clothing was ever so slightly more constricting. His mother's group and this other group mixed in together, one of mother's was with one of the other group. It occurred to him that the other group were the singers.

"And without further ado! Enjoy!" The announcer finishes off. One beat, then two passes, and in perfect unison, they all begin. As she told him, they started slow, the singers tune were high-pitched, but the notes came out at the same speed as the dancers' movements. He recognized the dance as 'The Prelude to the Waves'. He had to resist the urge to jump in with them.

When the next piece came up, 'The Tides that Change', the beat jumped up, both groups moved forward, soon going out of his sight. He frowned, but stayed put. Again, the singers' tunes matched the dancers' beat. Fast, fast, fast. In his mind, he pictured the movements.

'The Storm Approaches' came up right as he pictured the end of the second. When the slow resumed, the groups stepped back, into his sight, and as the fast returned, they moved forward… like a giant wave.

Then came the finale, 'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone'. Even from here, he could see water drops coming up en masse. Rising with the singers, rising with the dancers. Faster and faster, spinning and twisting, creating a beauty that he could not fully see, a sight that dwarfs all other sights a...

A collective gasp echoed, the amphitheater went completely silent, but… it's not over. He knows it, what could have…

Mother.

Against her wishes, he looked out. Mother collapsed, her body couldn't take the physical demands.

But that was nothing compared to the audience. Only the privileged were here, those who always got what they wanted. And to have a performance interrupted? The outrage was quick. If… if this continues. No, he wouldn't let it. Olivia was right, he only needed to see it once, so he took the boldest step of his life…

He walked on stage. The mere act of his boldness quieted the crowd, and both mother's and the singer's group looked at him. "Laslow?" The singer's leader harshly whispered.

"I can do this." He said with such a conviction that he surprised even himself. "Please sir, help my mother off the stage." He directed his gaze at the announcer, who quickly nodded. Why? Where was all of this courage coming from? He took a breath. Just focus on the dance, and the world will fade. "Shall we continue?" He asks once his mother has been safely taken off.

"We'll be resuming from the start of the finale." The singer concluded, her voice loud enough to echo through the amphitheatre. For a moment, the crowd was quieted, placing their hopes in a boy not old enough to be a man. The son of Olivia. "You are the ocean's grey waves…" She starts and in that moment…

Laslow knew exactly what to do. Standing aside the singer, he started, focusing on the dance, mirroring his mother's movements one-for-one. Slow, so slow, speed up, less movements in the legs, more on the arms. The water rises once more, higher and higher, faster and faster. Shake, shake, thurst, spin, twirl, the water trails behind. More movement on the legs, kick, spin, the water begins to form the same sphere he saw around his mother… except this one is covering the entire stage, the largest bubble to have ever existed.

And before he knew it, the song and dance ended. They all held their pose as the water blasted out, giving that glorious purified feeling that he felt to everyone. He took a breath, remembering to breathe.

A moment passed, then another. The applause followed and his heart swelled with pride. "I'll pray to Him for you tonight, Laslow." The singer whispered as both groups bowed. "We can never thank you enough."

* * *

"Mother?" Laslow gently asks as her eyes slowly blink open. "Hey."

"Las...low?" She groggily asks. "Are we home already? How was… wait." Suddenly her eyes shot open, "G-gods, no! I…"

"Your son did a marvelous performance." The lead singer said, "It was as if you were still there."

Her eyes snap to Laslow, with nothing but the purest of love and adoration, "You… oh, son." She smiles.

"Olivia, are you up to greet the ViP?" The lead singer continues.

"I… think?" She stands up with difficulty, before falling back down. "I'll need help, but yes." With that, two of her dancers came to her aid, "I'm sorry to be such a burden." Laslow followed the others as they made their way out.

"Daddy, look!" A baby girl with light-pink hair squeaked, she is holding on to a man with an impressively decorated suit. "It's them! It's them!" Her voice is very high-pitched.

"Good evening, everyone." A man with a pair of glasses bows. "This is King Sumeragi of Hoshido," He gestures towards the bulking man, who is now holding the small girl on his shoulder, "his wife, Queen Mikoto." A gentle woman smiles at them, "High Prince Ryoma." This man looks the spitting image of the King, "Princess Hinoka." Recognition flashes across the red-hair's eyes as she and Laslow lock gazes, "Prince Corrin." A slightly younger boy looked at them from behind Mikoto. But that's not what captured Laslow's look, no. This boy has pointed ears and red eyes. "Prince Takumi." He looks like Hinoka described him, toy bow and all. "And finally, the young Princess Sakura." He finally points to himself, "I am Yukimari. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

"That was an incredible performance." The King proudly states.

"Do it again, do it again!" The small Princess Sakura cheers.

"Shh… they need to rest." The Queen coos, "I am… beside myself. I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Agreed, mother. I can't describe it." The High Prince nods.

"It's better than the best." Princess Hinoka simply says.

"I'm looking forward to next year." Prince Takumi smiles.

"Corrin?" Mikoto nudged the silent boy.

While he is slightly older than Sakura, he seems so much younger with his hesitation. "You… did gr-ea-t." His eyes are wide.

"We're pleased to receive such high praise." The singer smiles.

"I'm… glad you… enjoyed yourselves." Olivia breathes, still exhausted.

"And you, too." Hinoka levels a look at Laslow, "That was so brave."

Laslow flushes at the direct praise, "Oh it's… I just do what I love."

"You have a true talent then, sir…"

"My name is Laslow, Princess Hinoka."

"Laslow, huh? I'll remember that." She smiles.

"Please, excuse us." The King offers, "We'll return for next year." After saying so, the rest said their goodbyes and left. A few moments passed in silence.

"Ah, the performers." A particularly greasy voice says. "This is King Garon of Nohr." He gestures to a man who seems to be going gray, "Crown Prince Xander." Laslow stiffened at the sight of this man, especially when his eyes locked onto Laslow. "And Prince Leo." Leo still holds that tome. "Unfortunately, Princess Camilla, Princess Azura, and young Princess Elise were unable to make the trip." He bows, "And I am Iago."

"I am impressed." Garon roughly states, looking not impressed at all.

"I thought you were good then, but now?" Xander starts, his eyes have yet to leave Laslow, "You've caught my attention, young Laslow."

"He's the one you spoke of, brother?" Leo asks, "I suppose I can see the talent."

Rude, all three of them. "I am excited to have performed for you all." The singer praises them, all the same.

"Agreed, I hope you'll come back. I do sincerely apologize for my abrupt collapse." Even mother stiffened, looking unsure.

"As mother said, I hope you'll return." No, he really didn't want to.

"We are leaving." Garon more commanded than stated.

Laslow shared a look with Olivia once they were gone. "Shall we go home, then?" He offers.

"Of course." Her smile isn't as bright, either.

"I'll see you in a week!" The singer calls out, "Take care!"

* * *

It was the dead of night. Neither Olivia or Laslow felt like doing anything. He doesn't blame her lethargy, so they just both called it and went to sleep. Or at least, that is what he would have done, if the door wasn't all but banged on. Considering that his mother is far more tired than he, Laslow answers the door. "May I…"

Crown Prince Xander?! "Hello, Laslow."

"I-I'm at a loss… had I known you were coming." He trails off.

"Yes, pardon my abrupt appearance." He doesn't look concerned at all, "I came to offer you a position by my side, Laslow."

"Um, as…?" Why him?

"My retainer." He states, as if Laslow should have known that, "You'll be paid with the highest quality Nohr has to offer."

"And what about my mother?" He couldn't just leave her here!

"What about her?" The harshness in his voice caused him to visibly recoil. "You are to be my retainer, not her."

What could he say? "Can I have some…"

"No, I'm leaving in the morning." He cuts him off. "Yes or no?"

"Yes." He ultimately decides, more to avoid whatever wrath awaits him if he says no, "But I want the gold sent to my mother."

"Hmph, very well." He shrugs it off, like it doesn't matter. "I'll return in the morning, be ready." With that, he leaves.

Laslow is left standing there. Small shuffling could be heard as Olivia walks into the main room, "S-Son?"

"I'm sorry, mother." He turns her way… she has tears rolling down her face, "He's the Crown Prince, I can only think of…"

"Don't change." She cuts him off. "Promise me, whatever happens. Whatever trial you have to go through. Don't change. Always be my loving and caring Laslow, okay?"

He pulls her into a hug, "I promise. I'll always be the son you know and love."

* * *

Laslow shakes his head as he takes a breath. Years. It has been years since he made that promise. It's a promise he continues to keep. Even after the intense sword training, to where he is as skilled as he can be. Today, he rides with his liege, alongside Peri, a vicious fighter that is his other retainer, off to the Northern Castle for the first time. He is meeting with a little brother that the Crown Prince calls Corrin. But Laslow… he knows better. Xander might have forgotten, but he hasn't.

Prince Corrin is of Hoshido.

He stays silent, to speak out would be the worst of wraths from the Crown Prince.

"I love you, mother." He whispers to the wind as the Castle comes into view. Part of him wonders if Corrin will remember him.


	2. The Fire in Her Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 'mega' chapter, this time I've got Selena's youth on display.
> 
> And also again, her parents' names are from Awakening, because I don't want to go through creating two more.
> 
> One last thing, this is told both from Selena's and Gregor's 3rd person PoV. I'm sure it will be very obvious when Selena or Gregor is the one telling the events.

How did she get end up here in the first place? Selena twirled the pointed end of her sword on the ground, willing the time away as her liege was in the next room, preparing herself for yet another mission. Beruka is handling the wait far better than she. Selena threw her head back and let out a un-lady-like groan. "Be patient, Selena." Beruka's calm voice carries across the room.

"Why another mission?" Selena asks.

"It is the will of the King."

"It's the will of the King to run our liege into the ground with the amount of work he keeps throwing at her! I know you're not so blind as to not see the exhaustion!"

Beruka closes her eyes and sighs, it's simply a thing she has to deal with. These consecutive tasks gets to Selena, and she becomes even more prickly as time passes, "We are to obey Lady Camilla's orders." She finally decides to say.

"Damn it, Beruka! She had to use your wyvern last time!" A foot slammed on the floor, shaking some of the nearby objects, "How much longer will Lady Camilla be able to keep up if her own wyvern is out cold? She isn't a Dragon God."

"Now now, dears." Selena immediately adopts a more formal posture as her liege enters the room. "Save the fighting for the bandits, shall we?" She walks towards Selena, "But, I can't deny how sweet it is that you care for me so."

"I'm your retainer, Lady Camilla." Selena says as she can see the literal bags under the bags under her eyes. How many nights was she unable to sleep? "It is only natural I worry for your health."

She smiles a sweet smile, "Beruka dear? Has my wyvern had a nice enough nap?"

"...I'm afraid not, Lady Camilla. His wing is still recovering." The once-assassin answers without hesitating. "Anymore stress and it will end up tearing off."

"Aw…" Camilla sighs, "I'll suppose I'll have to use yours again, if you don't mind?"

Yes, yes she should mind! Why can't they get a few days reprieve? Selena never expected to be worked so hard to the bone when she took this position. Lady Camilla didn't seem that type of Royal. No, she internally shakes her head, Lady Camilla isn't…

The problem is her father. He hands her, more or less, a list of things to do, scattered all across Nohr. They leave for a few weeks, come back a day, then are out for weeks again. Again and again and again! Why… Lady Camilla taps Selena on her shoulder, "Right, I apologize Lady Camilla." The red hair retainer rises with her sword and sets out.

Time for another month or whatever worth of missions…

* * *

Selena had barely hit her young teenage years before she took up the sword. No, even younger than then. She has been holding a blade since she was not more than a child. Granted, it was a wooden sword, but a sword all the same. Her father, Gregor, kept pushing it on her. Being a professional mercenary himself, he had much to pass on. The two lived alone in a dense forest, in a shelter. He is all she had for family, as she never knew her mother. Her father told her that she died in an ambush, that he was unable to save her.

All that matters is she's gone, not a single coherent memory remains… maybe except for the red hair she inherited. "Are you ready for the teaching today, Selena?" Gregor is actually quite old, a feat in itself for his line of work. "We work on your blocking, yes?"

"Sure." She holds her sword to the side, in a more defensive stance, with her buckler raised high. "Give me what you got!" She provokes the man, her own father.

"You best watch your mouth!" He shouts back in kind, before charging. Gregor opts for a strike right on her buckler, Selena's stance falters behind the sheer force of his strike. "Dig deeper! Be great rock!" He pulls the sword back and goes again, striking the buckler at a slightly different angle. Selena's shoes dig into the ground, pushing her back less this time, "Good! Again!" A third blow and the only thing that happens is the searing pain in her shoulder from continuous use.

"Tch." She scoffs as he tries for a fourth, except that she strikes low and fast, not wanting to suffer more shoulder pain than she already is. Since she is supposed to be training her defense, he never suspected her to attack, leaving him wide open for a pommel to his gut.

He coughs up some spit before staggering back, "Sneaky girl." He finds his breath after several moments. "You wish to play like that?"

"We've been focusing on defense for days! When can I start hitting you again!?" The fire in her eyes grows.

"You won't last if you strike without blocking." He states, standing tall, well above twice her height. "You must learn to protect yourself, so that you can protect others!"

"I can't just stand around and be a damn turtle all day, either!" She counters.

"You wish to fight like real?" He asks.

"Duh!"

"No hold bars?"

"Bring it!" She hissed, readying herself.

"Very well, I won't hold back!" He charges, faster than she's ever seen him move. Faster than any man his size has a right to move.

She was on the forest floor the next moment. "Ugh…" She groans as her vision swims.

"You still wish to fight like real?" Her father stands over her, a look of concern on his face, "Is this how you wish to die?"

"Of course not!" She hisses back as she grips her chest. "Damn, that hurt…"

"Daughter…" Gregor sighs as he offers a hand. "There, fire soothed? You can defend again, yes?"

"Why do you keep describing things with fire?" She asks as she levels herself on the ground, "It's always 'Fire in eyes, daughter' or 'anger flares like blaze'." Her 'Gregor' voice is so off, due to being unable to produce a deep tone.

He takes a breath, "Is because of your mother." A pang of hurt crosses his expression. Mother is a topic that always pains him. "She held fire most beautiful, long red hair, could hold her own in fight."

"If you speak of her so highly, why won't you tell me more?!" Selena snaps, "All you do is praise her 'beauty' and her 'fighting spirit', but that's it! Name? Birthplace? Favorite food? Anything!?"

"...Hit me." He says. "I make deal. Every big hit you land, I'll share detail."

"Pfft, easy."

"Every big hit I land, we go through training session. Deal?"

"That second part is bull! An entire session?!"

"You fear training session more than losing your life?" He raises an eyebrow.

"How the hell did you come to that conclusion!?"

"Selena." She freezes on the spot, "Deal or no deal?"

"...Fine. Deal." She sighs as she readies herself for another strike from her incredibly fast father. "I'm going to beat those…" She most certainly did not beat the details out of him. Instead, it was another round of training.

* * *

Selena is holding an axe in hand, chopping down a tree for several reasons. One is strength training, the second is axe training, the third is because some of the wood in the cabin is rotting, the last is because they need more wood for the campfire. While Selena is most proficient in swords, she has had a lot of training in it all… except tomes. As such, she can use axes, spears, swords, bows, and even daggers.

For a girl her age, it would be strange to see her chopping down trees, but her father trained her well. He boasts that she could floor a dozen villagers, maybe even a half dozen guards. The scary part is, he isn't lying. For a girl that hasn't even hit puberty, she is strong. A creaking noise echoes as the tree falls behind this girl's might. Now, the next part, chop this up and start hauling it to the shelter.

How many trips? Five? Ten? Hours seem to toll by as Selena made trip after trip. Her muscles strained with each load, but she kept moving. She had to keep feeding this 'fire' father spoke so highly of. Well, she doesn't know about a literal fire, but she sure did tired of hearing that phrase. There was only an hour before nightfall by the time she finished hauling the dozens of logs back.

Her legs and arms burned, her throat is dry from ragged breathing, her body is soaked in sweat, she absolutely stinks, but she's done. Still she stands tall, still she faces the next challenge with her head held high, refusing to back down, even when her muscles scream. "What's next?" She asks.

"We feast." Those two words brought such relief to Selena's aching body. If she were so able, tears of joy would leave her.

Instead a single hiccup comes out as she sits by her father. "Bear?" She asks, if a bit too hopefully.

"Boar." He corrects.

"Can we get bear next time?"

"Ha!" He chuckles, "Has little daughter lost mind? We wouldn't even able to finish before it spoil."

"Oh, stop holding back. You know you can shove an entire bear's worth of meat in your stomach if you tried." She snarkily replies as she shoulders his side.

"You call your father fat?"

"And if I did?" She smirks.

A beat passes, and Gregor simply smiles, "Then I would hope your bite is better than bark."

Selena, too, smiles, feeling content with this type of banter. "Hey, father?"

"Ye… oof!" She slams her shoulder into his side, enough to knock him off-balance and onto the forest floor.

"That counts, right?"

"Oh… you wish to play like that?" He groans as he gets up. "Fine, fine."

"The basics, what  **is**  her name?" She asks.

He sighs, "Cordelia."

"Cordelia…" She echoes.

"Now, eat." He chuckles, "You won't be as lucky with cheap shot next time."

* * *

Months passed by and Selena was barely scraping by with details. Every attempt usually ended in a training session. Her father proved to be on an entirely different level when he became serious. So, it worries her how he was overwhelmed to the point where he couldn't save Cordelia. How many did it take? If she can take a half dozen town guard, would it take him two dozen? Three dozen bandits? A squad of an elite royal guard?

She wanted more details, so she had to keep landing more blows. Cordelia's ancestors are part of a Tribe, he told her. She nearly perfected all styles she could get her hands on. She was a true legend. Yet, she also failed to see her own abilities. She berated herself, refusing to believe she is as great as the others claimed she was. Which is why they moved to this isolated shelter. It was to be just Gregor, Cordelia, and the child on the way. She always held Selena close, made sure she had everything she needed as a growing child…

Except that one day, when she lost her life, leaving behind a grief-stricken husband and a wailing Selena.

"Who killed her?" That was the question this time. Selena had been growing into a fine young woman through that time. Her features became more apparent and even without all of the little things the city women had, she would still be the envy of them. But, more importantly, she could also defend herself. Pity the fool who thinks she's an easy target. "Father?"

It… never took him this long to respond. "I lied to you, daughter." He admits. "Cordelia did not die to bandit ambush."

"Wh-what?!" She exclaimed.

"Sit. I will tell all. No more strikes required." He sticks his sword in the ground and sits on the log next to the campfire, before hauling a particularly big one next to him into the fire.

The fire quickly accepted his gift, and the flames shot up. "Better not lie to me again, father." She too, sticks her sword into the ground, a whole foot deeper than his.

"As you know I'm Nohrian. Made much money working mercenary."

"So, that's still the truth…" She narrows her eyes.

"I had job one day, in Hoshido." He sniffs, "Not unusual, Hoshido had problems too, just not as many as Nohr. Any of way…"

* * *

Gregor walked plains of Hoshido. According to contract, there were bandit camp harassing village. Very persistent, even guard was unable to route them. So, Gregor was assigned to deal with problem, big pay, see? Naturally, Gregor took job. He left village, towards direction of bandits. When Gregor reached bandits, he scouted from afar. Used magnifying scope, of course. It seemed simple, half dozen or so. Gregor failed to see what gave guards much trouble.

Then he spotted big problem. Bandits well equipped… very well equipped. I talk army-level gear. Not all, mind you, but a good number. Even from afar, Gregor could see detail. High-quality iron and steel. Inexperience outweighed by superior arms. Gregor watched for longer as he makes out who does what. Gregor remembers two swords, an axe, a lance, a bow, and man who wielded all the others. Yes, he even walked with all. Once Gregor took note of each in detail, he readied himself. It would be tough, but doable. After checking sword and shield, Gregor took only a few steps forward, before voice call to him.

"Sir, please stop." Lady landed with Pegasus, see? Long, flowing red hair, wing clips in hair. She stood proudly, "I have a request in for reinforcements."

"I appreciate concern, lady. But I assure you, Gregor has this."

"Bravado will only get you killed, sir Gregor." She gently calls out.

"How long until soldiers arrive?" In his mind, he began working out numbers, yes? Well-organized bandits don't wait long. Usually hit-and-run.

"Hours?" She sounded uncertain.

"I assure you, they attack again within that time." He nods to himself, "Miss…?"

"Cordelia, of the Pegasus Knights."

Another nod, this one more for her, "Cordelia. I worry waiting would be bad for people, more death and pillage. Bad for contract." He takes a few steps forwards, but she places a hand on hulking bicep, concern lining her eyes. "I truly appreciate worry, but Gregor didn't live this long with just luck. Many, many years of mercenary work made Gregor into fine warrior."

She bites her lip, clearly not wanting to let Gregor fight alone. "I can help." She resolves, "I…"

"Two men have bow." He interrupts as he shows her his notepad. "You will be shot down, bad for you, yes?"

Cordelia looks at her Pegasus, who whinnies from the mere mention of bows, then back at Gregor, a fire in her eyes. "I have training on foot, too. I suggest we should take care of the archers, then I can take my Pegasus to the sky."

"Cordelia strategist, too?" He smirks.

"I… can do a lot of things." She offers.

"Very well, if Cordelia think herself capable, then Gregor has no complaints."

"I'm as ready as I will be, sir Gregor. On your mark." She gives her Pegasus a reassuring rub, "We won't be long, girl."

"Then we move."

* * *

"Hold on." Selena interrupts, "You met mother in Hoshido… on a contract? And she had no problem charging into a fight with only one other person?" She narrows her eyes, "And don't exaggerate. You only talk about your biceps when you are particularly proud of some moment."

He chuckles, it is deep and hearty. "Sorry daughter. But Gregor felt connection in moment. But yes, we did this by ourselves. I swear all is truth."

Satisfied with the sincerity of his answer, Selena leans back, "Alright, you and mother killed the bandits, now what?"

"Is simple."

* * *

"We… did it?" Cordelia asked self as last one died, she just dismounted Pegasus.

"See? Why worry? Gregor done this for decades, ha!" He laughed out loud.

"Well, I'm sorry for doubting you, sir Gregor."

"Is no worries. Only logical to assume suicide if one goes against many." He proudly proclaims as he flex… No, nothing. Gregor kid, there is no flexing of muscles. Erm…

"Would you be available for another?" Cordelia asked, fire in eyes. "It is a smaller encampment, but a camp nonetheless."

Gregor raised eyebrow and crossed arms, giving beautiful woman serious look. "Question: Why do you fight?"

"Uh… pardon?"

"What is reason for pretty woman to want to fight?"

Her face ever so slightly flushes, "In the name of the King and Queen of Hoshido, of course. I fight to maintain peace. To preserve the citizens of this bountiful land."

"You speak nothing of self."

"Do not get me wrong, sir Gregor. I don't enjoy fighting, but I fear there are many out there who refuse to compromise. Why do you fight?"

"Gregor know no other profession. Gregor fight to survive. Everyday struggles: Does Gregor use gold to repair armor? Or buy meal? Other equipment?" He list off, "I don't kill to kill, nor fight to fight. I fight because I have to. If sound selfish, then let Gregor be selfish."

"That sounds dangerously close to being a bandit. What's stopping you from making your own group and simply taking what you want?"

"Simple. No honor." He state as if most obvious thing. "Gregor not thief, not assassin, not bandit. Mercenary is what Gregor is, and Gregor have honor code."

She smiles, "I'm glad to hear that, Gregor."

"One more: What would Cordelia do if the selfless grounds of fighting became corrupt?"

She freeze on spot, "Are you asking if the King and Queen became tyrannical?"

"Would Cordelia choose people or royalty? And what of self? Where do your own life lay?"

"Th-that's a…" She stops and takes a breath. "I need time for that, Gregor."

"Fair enough. Shall pretty lady and Gregor take time to go to this bandit camp?"

Another flush, "S-sure."

* * *

"You were hitting on her." Selena blankly states. "You just met her and you were hitting on her."

"Gregor speak truth. I thought Cordelia beautiful, so I told her she's beautiful." He shrugs, "What's wrong with that?"

"Just… never mind." She sighs, "How did she get in Hoshido?"

"Also simple."

"Simple?! Since when was the last time a Nohrian rode…"

"Cordelia not Nohrian. She's Hoshidan."

"...Mother is… Hoshidan?" Selena echoes.

"And what is wrong with that?"

"Did she know you are Nohrian?"

"Yes, Gregor not lie to her."

"...And she was okay with that?"

"You here, are you not? Ha!" He laughs out loud. "Daughter did not pop out of thin air." He pauses as he sees her scrunches her face, "Never doubt, Gregor loves Cordelia and Cordelia loves Gregor. Who cares if she was Hoshidan or if I were Nohrian? We loved…"

"Alright, alright! It's starting to get sappy, now." She looks away. "So, you and mother took out few bandits camps or whatever, then what?"

"After some fights, we decided to go to town, have meal."

* * *

Normally, Hoshidan would stare Nohrians down, but Gregor was wide-known mercenary, man who worked with whoever paid. So, he was at least accepted without hassle. He traveled into town with lovely Cordelia, she suggested a certain place of eating. A waitress waved her down, so I thought she was a regular, but no. Turns out the two were friends… hmph, pardon… dust got in eyes, anyway. Cordelia and Gregor sat down, that's when we encountered problem, yes?

Gregor raised Nohrian, and while he worked both nations. Gregor could only read minimal Hoshidan, definitely not enough to know food names. "Gods, I'm so sorry, Gregor." Cordelia sighed, "I didn't think about it."

He chuckled, relieving tension, yes? "Tell Gregor, are there any pasta-based food? Very common in Nohr, yes?"

"Of course!" She smiled and started going down the list on the menu, patiently explaining whatever word Gregor didn't know.

"Gregor would like spaghetti and balls of meat." Cordelia and the waitress gave him a strange look.

"It's… meatballs, Gregor." She smiles. He raises an eyebrow as she stifles a giggle, but he ultimately shrugs.

"Meatballs, then. Pardon bad language."

"Just two slices of the herb-based pizza." She smiles at her, "And… a small bag of fresh carrots, if you have any."

"Carrots?" Gregor ask as waitress leaves.

"Pegasi loves carrots."

"Gregor sees." He pause, "You take much care of Pegasus, yes?"

She quickly nods, "She's my everything, Gregor. A Pegasus is so much more than a mount. She's my companion, my friend, my closest confidential, she listens to what I say and she always responds." Her eyes shine, not with fire, but with adoration.

"Hm, cannot say Gregor understand such bond, but am happy for you, regardless." He smile to assure sincerity.

"I appreciate the sentiment, regardless." She smiles as she idly stirs her drink. "Gregor, did you teach yourself how to fight?"

Gregor frowned, "Unlike beautiful knight, Gregor only had himself."

"I'm… so sorry. That you were so alone. Wasn't it scary?" Concern lines her eyes again.

"Yes, but it was feeling Gregor had to overcome. Nohr is no place for the easily scared. Gregor had to toughen himself, he refused to lie down and accept whatever was thrown at him. So, what did Gregor do?" His pitch rose as he started becoming more and more prideful, "I tell pretty lady what Gregor do. Gregor stood, took blade in hand, and learned. All that Gregor knows, all that he can do, he taught himself! Gregor reached into the skies above and fight against all. Gregor stood against many, this man is not to fall. Gregor won't lie down. Gregor. Will. Live!" He finished it off with pumping his fist into the air. He grabbed the attention of literally everyone, but it bother Gregor not.

Except one. The pretty lady he has dinner with. Her eyes sparkled something fierce, she admired Gregor's bi… er, Gregor's determination. His refusal to admit defeat. Even if he truly never fought for the many, the fact that he stood against such odds was more than enough to swoon Cordelia.

* * *

"Father…" Selena slowly says. "You're doing it again."

"Gregor is serious." He says without a flicker of lying. "She truly loved my declaration."

"And you practically yelled that?"

"Yes."

"In a public area?"

"Of course. What wrong with that?"

"Wasn't that… embarrassing?" Even Selena's own face burned at the thought of doing something so… brazen. "Having everyone stare at you like that?"

"Did Gregor not mention only one person's thoughts matter?" He shrugs it off, "Cordelia thought it wonderful, so why Gregor care about other opinions?" He sits back down.

"So, mother is Hoshidan, and you swooned her by yelling at the top of your lungs in a public cafe, what else?" Despite the bizarreness and cringy bits, Selena found herself hooked.

"We grew closer over time." He simply states.

"Then…?"

"We hit sack."

"Father!" Now, now her entire face is burning. "Gods."

"You asked."

"Anything else? No grand stories?"

"Just the last bit." He is actually fighting to keep himself in check… and Selena had the sinking feeling she knew what was about to be said. "Day of loving wife's death."

* * *

Gregor and Cordelia lived in cottage in forest, yes? Not this one, is different. Baby Selena was here, and she is just getting done with breast feed stage. "I… still feel bad about this, love." Cordelia sighed. "A week out? No jobs? What if Hoshido needs me?"

"Shh, love." Gregor gives Cordelia good kiss, "One week, Hoshido and Nohr will live." He wraps his arms around her. "My fiery tempest."

She giggles into Gregor's mighty… Gregor brought her mood up, alright? "I suppose even the best need a break."

"See? Much better." He laughed. "Now, what we do first?"

"Something simple to unwind."

"Has loving wife ever fished?"

"I haven't, no."

Gregor openly smiles, "Is very relaxing, requires much patience, though." He looks at baby Selena, "Quiet enough for her, too."

Which caused Cordelia to beam, "Then let's fish." See? Cordelia loved baby Selena with her everything. She wanted to do all she could with little girl.

I carried fishing equipment and fiery wife carried little Selena. We left cabin and traveled to creek. She lied down Selena on small crib and I readied the poles. Once I showed basics, we started fishing. For hours we joked and had fun. Were many fish caught? No, but that is not why Gregor brought wonderful wife out. We came for fun. To relax, and we did just that, yes? Minute by minute, years of stress and fighting faded, we were renewed.

We returned to cabin truly happy, more relaxed than even best massage offer. We spent rest of day in cabin, simply being husband and wife with child. Then… then…, pardon. More dust, yes?

Then night time came. Baby Selena was in next room while Gregor and Cordelia slept together. Sleep came slowly, we spent much time simply lying together, relishing the company of each other. Soon, both Gregor and Cordelia fell asleep…

* * *

"Father?" Selena asked as Gregor stopped. This is the first time she has ever seen him succumb to his emotions like this. For years, her father has been the unstoppable wall of strength. A paragon to look up to, to copy.

"And…" And here he is, crying without shame, reopening a wound he would have rather left scarred. "I awoke to loud cry, yes?" Still he pushed through. "Cordelia was already up and alert, she went to grab lance, no time for armor. Baby Selena could be in danger." He takes a deep breath and wipes the tears off, "Gregor soon followed, he grabbed sword and shield, ready to defend both loving wife and beautiful daughter, with life if need be."

"If… you need a moment." Selena finds herself reaching out, as tears formed in her eyes. If… if it's okay for Gregor to cry, then it's okay for her to cry, too.

"No. But thank you, daughter." Another deep breath. "We entered baby Selena's room, it was clear. Breathing relief, Cordelia started going over what crying was about. She… she went through the entire list… nothing. We thought maybe bad dream, so Cordelia picked baby up and rocked her asleep. But… sleep never came to daughter, she kept wailing and crying. She shared a look with me, doubting her own skills. Gregor didn't know what to do, either. He never fathered a child."

"And… And then?" Despite the pain he's going through, Selena wanted to know. If her mother didn't die to a bandit attack, then what? It sounds like it's leading up to an assassin.

"Baby stopped crying, but didn't fall asleep. Another relief as Cordelia placed baby down into crib. Gregor turned back and left room first…" His entire body tensed and he suddenly is filled with anger, "Baby cried again, but another sound was there. Gregor turned to see loving, fiery wife stabbed, a man clothed in leather the offender. Outraged, Gregor charged him and he beat man with fists. Gregor never knew rage like this, the man's skull cracked and he stopped moving, but Gregor didn't stop until fist hit floorboard. With haze gone, Gregor went to wife, who barely breathed. She… she looked and me and smiled. She tells what great man I am. That she never regrets loving me, having child with me. Her last wish was just one more kiss. Gregor respected last wish, and we kissed. She… she died in that last gesture."

"M-mother…" Selena finds her own fire inside, some… dirty assassin killed her?!

"I took care of Selena alone since. Moving out here to hide better."

"And… what about mother?"

"I gave her respected Nohrian burial. She rests directly under cabin in woods." His eyes are still being stung by tears, "There. Truth of Cordelia. About how Gregor failed her. Gregor failed you. If I were more aware, she would still be standing, you would have two parents."

"Father…" Selena whispered. "You are not a failure!" She shouts back.

"Loving mother died because of Gregor's…"

"And how did you know that assassin was there?!" Her voice raises, "You didn't, did you? So stop blaming yourself! Would… would you blame yourself if a damn boulder fell out of the sky and crushed her?! No! Of course not! How would you have known? You couldn't have! So stop blaming yourself for things out of your control!" Selena's face has since turned red and with her rant over, she sits back down.

Moments pass in silence, before the unthinkable happens. Gregor starts laughing. "T-To think… Daughter would be the one to relieve my burden, the one to undo my fears and show how stupid Gregor acted!" His voice booms around them, "Thank you, fiery daughter."

"Not a problem, father." She smirked, more glad to see his tears gone.

"We should prepare for next day, yes?" He offers.

"You bet. And know I'm kicking your ass to the ground."

Another booming laugh, "We'll see, my angel of flames."

* * *

Selena was sprawled about on the bed, snoring contently. For once, she went to bed not just physically drained, but also emotionally. She never really had a true outlet for her emotions… besides anger. It felt like a weight was lifted off of her. Which is why she slept so soundly, in such a… her eyes shot open as she felt a sudden constriction. "Ge…" She kicked and thrashed about, scoring some hit in the feeling of something soft. She grabbed the dagger under her pillow and went for the target without a second thought. It was some… leather clad man. Just like the one Gregor described. With a sudden fire in her veins, she lashes out. Sparks flew as she kept pushing him back, forcing him on the defensive, but… there was a problem.

She was going all out, nothing for defense, as consumed she was by a rage. Selena gasped as she felt a dagger slice into her bare abs, the cold air stinging the wound. " **No!** " Not just the door, but an entire section of the wall broke down, her father standing tall, sword and shield in hand. "Never again!" He roared as he quickly and skillfully skewered the man once, killing with such an efficiency that would scare most. "Daughter? Selena? Gods!" He quickly went over to her and ripped off a piece of his shirt, "Shh, it's alright… I'm here."

Selena's eyes are wide and she held back whimpers as her father efficiently wrapped her wound, stopping any excess bleeding. "F-father? That was just like…" She's crying again.

"It won't…" He never got to finish that sentence as blood started pouring both out of his mouth and chest, a single stab wound.

"F-father?" She breathed as he fell on her. "Father!?" With the sword stuck in him, the killer now had an axe in hand. She… this one is a woman. Her clothes were more than tight enough to discern her figure. She has a small frame, undoubtedly perfect for sneaking around. Her entire face is covered, though a few strands of some shade of blue hair poke through. She couldn't have been much older than her… unless she is a midget.

"Target eliminated." She said in a dead tone, though the pitch was high, further affirming this woman is more of a girl. She then walks away.

"G-Get back here!" Selena screams as she takes up her dagger again.

The assassin expertly slams her on the face with her pommel, stagger Selena back, the woman then simply pushes the already off-balance Selena, causing her to fall on the floor, "You aren't on the contract. Stay silent, or I will silence you." Her eyes are as dead as her tone. Selena remains on the floor, "Agitate that wound more, and you'll simply bleed out." She walks away without a care. Selena sits there, clutching her wound, before slowly going over to her father.

"Father?" She rolled him over, "Father…?" She checked for a pulse, even the smallest sign that he's alive. "F-f-Father!" She shakes him, unwilling to believe she's losing him, too. "Gods, no. Please, Father! Come back, Father!" Tears stream down as she slowly stops shaking him, "No… Father." The fire in her eyes dies as she hangs her head. Gregor's… dead. Her father is dead. Her mother is dead. Both by assassins. Gritting her teeth, she grips the hilt of the blade used to kill her father and she pulls it out. "I swear to you, father. I  **will**  kill her with this blade. I will track her down and kill her in your name. In mother's name. In every name that has ever died to a damn assassin! I  **swear**  it!" She screams that last part.

* * *

In a tragic turn of fate, Selena buried her father under the shelter, like he did her mother. She took both his favorite sword, and the assassin's sword. The former went into a sheathe on her side, the latter went into her pack with its sheathe. Taking one last look at her home, she walks away. To where? She doesn't know. But… this place has nothing left. She has nothing left.

For weeks she traveled the roads, a girl who has barely just hit mid teenager years. Someone who should be far too young to travel. Like her father, she took up mercenary work. Proving time and time again that looks can deceive, that she is better than the common soldier. For now, she walked south.

Months passed and she arrived at some reprieve, the port city of Crynkesia. She would rest a day or two here, resupply, then move out again. Thankfully, due to her growing reputation as the 'Youthful Killer', she found work here quickly. While yes, she was merely a bodyguard for a small group of children, it was a job. Jobs meant money, and she needed lots of it. It did pay well, mainly because these children were nobility. She walked among them as they browsed stalls and ate food. She stood aside the whole time, refusing to be apart of it. She had a job to do.

"We're going to swim in the canal, miss!" The oldest of the bunch exclaimed.

"Watch for canoes." Is all she said as she stood aside, watching them jump in, one by one. As she stood there, she felt a pair of eyes staring at her. A hand slips down to her hip and she leans slightly, making it seem like she's just making herself comfortable, rather than granting quick access to her father's sword and she keeps her gaze locked ahead.

"Good evening, ma'am." The man greets. He sounds youthful, but she pays him no mind. She has a job to do. "Lovely day, isn't it?" Silence follows.

"What the hell do you want?!" She finally gives in, but keeping her eyes over the noble children.

"A short chat."

"I'm busy."

"Oh… maybe later?"

"Busy." She spits out.

"Tomo…"

"Listen, boy. I'm always going to be busy, okay? So unless you want to put in a job on my queue list, leave!" There… maybe he'll get the idea. She stares him down, and is surprised to see a boy as young as her. Contrasting her fiery red is his soothing blue.

"My apologies, miss…?" Despite it all, he smiles.

"Selena." She supplies.

"Miss Selena. I'll be on my way."

"Hey, boy." She asks as he takes about two steps up. "Name?"

"I am Laslow, ma'am."

A pause, "I'm not saying I want to. But I just so happen to have some free time tomorrow…" Her gaze turns forwards, so she misses the smile that forms on his face.

"Lunch tomorrow, then? With the local tea cafe next to me?"

"...Fine." He turns away and starts walking… and a smile forms on her face. It… felt nice actually. Due to her line of work, everyone is usually clipped when talking, but not him. Laslow spoke to her like a real human.

It felt nice.

* * *

Selena counted over the gold in her pouch. For a day's worth of body guarding an admittedly group of spoiled brats? Almost approaching a thousand gold pieces. If these kids weren't such a loud, obnoxious bunch, she might do this more often. She sighed as she sat on the bed in her room at the inn, then takes out both swords. Despite not having to use it today, she goes over and polishes her father's sword, anyway. She takes the utmost care of it for the respect, love, and adoration she held for the man. On the other hand…

The reason why she keeps the assassin's blade so polished and sharpened is for when she runs that woman through with it. Selena might not fight to just fight, but for this one assassin? She'll make an exception. She actually wants to see the life fade from that damn woman's eyes, to hear her last breaths. She stole her father from her. An assassin stole her mother from her! And this woman? This woman will be the scapegoat. This woman will be the focal point, after she's done bleeding that assassin out, that's it. She's leaving that blade there, along with its sheath and then, and only then will Selena let that burden go.

Heaving a sigh and flopping on the bed, Selena falls asleep.

* * *

She wakes up early, she always does. Getting up, she goes to wash herself, and tries to prep as best she can. It takes her over an hour to wash, shampoo, and rinse her hair, not to even bring up for having it to dry. With nothing better to wear, she puts on her armor, buckler, and swords. Smelling closer to a normal woman would, perfume and all, she leaves the inn with a strange confidence. She's… never been out with anyone.

Even just 'for tea'.

She arrived early and well… so did he. He looked as well dressed as yesterday. The two went into that tea cafe he walked from yesterday. "So, Selena. You're a traveler?" His voice is pretty smooth and nice to hear.

"I am." She clipply agrees.

"Do you have any places to share? Sights to see?"

She resists the urge to flinch, "No. No sight-seeing." She replies far harsher than intended. Breathe, she tells herself, this is meant to relax…

"I've never left the city, myself." Laslow admits.

"Oh."

"Where did you live?"

Apparently in two places, each in where one of her parents died. "An abandoned shelter in the forests." It hurts… it hurts to just think of the place.

"That sounds pleasant, right? Away from the hustle and bustle of the city."

"It was just… my father and me. I never knew my mother." No, that's a lie, but she's already treading into territory she would rather leave untouched.

"I… never knew my father. I only lived with my mother, but…" He casts a longing glance at the behemoth of the building… the amphitheatre, "My mother works double time there. She leads the dancing group."

"Still, at least you have things within your reach." She spits with venom.

"Is my life truly better?" He asks with such a seriousness that it catches her off guard. "While yes, I have access to gold to buy a lot of things. There's one thing that I sorely want to purchase, but can't… time with my mother." He looks hurt.

She feels hurt. "I need to go." She says as she thinks she can take no more of this. Just like that, she leaves, not even wanting to finish her tea and biscuits. He offered something about doing this again if she's around and…

And if she is, then she will. She won't ever say it, but she likes him. No one has ever bothered to get past her initial fiery nature and it felt nice for someone to want to spend time with her, it's just… she isn't ready. There's too much left undone.

There's an assassin's life to take.

* * *

It has been several years since that last meeting with that generous Laslow, and she has at last returned to Crynkesia. While she hasn't found that assassin, she has found a bit more peace, probably due to age. She walks the streets, and after several attempts, finds that one cafe. She… isn't sure what time is his 'normal' time, so… "Sir." She manages to keep her tone neutral… at least she doesn't sound pissed off. "I'm looking for Laslow. Son of the master dancer."

"Oh, you're that lady he had tea with."

"You… remember?" She is honestly taken aback.

"Of course. Poor Laslow, he always had trouble keeping someone's attention." He chuckles, but it's clear his overall mood isn't as good as the sound.

"What time does he normally come in?" Perhaps she said that a bit too eagerly and…

"Ma'am?" The owner levels a look at her, "Do an old soul a favor? Visit Olivia, alright? His mother."

"Sir… what are you getting at?" She glares at him, "Where is Laslow?"

"Gone." He simply states, "Olivia was in tears for days. The…" He stops. "I'm sorry, but the night after the yearly dance, he disappeared. So please, visit her."

"Why me?" She asks, but not because of his request. Why did this happen to her? She lost her mother, her father, and now the first person she has even remotely wanted to spend time with is gone.

"He told me of how his mother wanted to meet you, of course!" He, understandably, misunderstood her meaning.

"...Where does she live?" She gives in.

He scribbles on a piece of paper, then gives it to her, alongside a bag of… tea leaves? "Directions and… well, her favorite type of tea leaves."

"I can't brew tea." She flatly states.

"It's the thought that counts." He presses, "She needs more light, ma'am. Be that source of light." With that, he pulls back, and waves down another customer.

Sighing to herself, she leaves.

* * *

His house wasn't too far, actually. A short walk. Yet, with every step, her heart grows heavier. He never knew his father, she never knew her mother. He rarely saw his mother, she saw her father die before her eyes. Who truly had it worse? Clearing her throat, she knocks on the door, "Mrs. Olivia?" She asks in a polite manner she never did before.

"Who…?" Gods, her voice sounds so defeated. "Come in." Steeling herself, Selena enters and… the scene tears her apart. Her house is in disrepair, there are empty spaces where there was clearly furniture. "What's your name?" She looks so frail, so delicate. Her pink hair is what stands out most, but even now she can see many strands of gray, more from stress than age, probably. Her body looks to be thinner, some of her clothes droop down.

And what makes her sunken face looks so much more worse is that Selena can see the laugh lines on the sides of her mouth.

"Mrs. Olivia? My name is Selena." She found her own voice quiet and gentle, "I brought some tea leaves for you and…"

"Selena?" Her mind seems to have caught up, and the red hair nods. "I know that name. My… My…" And just like that, she cracked. "S-S-Son." Placing the tea leaf bag down, she does something that is so unlike her. She hugged the distraught Olivia. Is… is this how Gregor felt? Holding a dying Cordelia in his arms? Having that final kiss?

"I enjoyed my time with him, that day." She admits.

"He… my… gods, Laslow." She continues to wail. "The… the night of that dance, I was so tired and he… night someone knocked on… door and he… retainer!" Her words come out fragmented. "Haven't ever seen him yet. Nothing!"

"Mrs. Olivia." Selena's own tears threaten to form. Who… who could have done this to her?! What damned force made her son walk away? To leave her alone like this? "Who took him?"

"X-X-Xander…"

"As… as in Crown Prince Xander?!" Olivia starts whimpering and nods. "Why?!"

"Impressed by his performance on stage… gods. It's  **my**  fault he's gone! If… If I didn't teach him those last few dances, I would still have him. My little boy!" A sudden wave of flashbacks hits her.

Same notes, different tune. "Olivia, listen to me carefully, okay?" Just with… less yelling and harshness. "It wasn't your fault."

"Th-that's… it's my love for dance that had this happen!"

"Did you know it was going to happen?" She shakes her head, "And you would never have wanted this to happen?" She gasps at the mere thought of it, and Selena quickly adds, "Then don't blame yourself, ma'am. Those events were out of your control, don't blame yourself for what you can't control."

Tears are still streaming, "But they were!" She, surprisingly, lashes back, "If… If I never taught him those dances, then I… I might have had the energy to do the dance that night. Then my lovely son wouldn't have had to perform in my place, then Xander wouldn't have been impressed by him and…  **he would still be here**!" Olivia looked away from her outburst. "I have nothing. Dancing was the love of my life, and Laslow above even that. But… dancing has taken him away. I  **have**  nothing." She slumps back, defeated.

What could she say? She tried being tender, but it didn't work. "I should get going." She gets up, "The owner of that tea shop said those were your favorite. Goodbye, Olivia. Stay strong." Selena left before she gets caught up in her emotions.

* * *

And now here Selena is. Under the command of an overworked Nohrian royal by the name of Camilla. The offender… Crown Prince Xander is so close, but so far. She literally hasn't seen a single strand of that man's hair, nor Laslow. She worried for Laslow, how is the smooth-talking, dance-loving man taking it?

"Darling?" Camilla's voice brings her from her thoughts in their camp. The eldest Nohrian princess is slightly crouched down, wiping away Selena's tears. "What has gotten my sweet retainer upset?"

And that… she has yet to find that assassin. "The things that have happened to me." She admits. Where is that assassin? Is she still the same size as Selena is now? Does she still sound as dead? Are her eyes still dead? Is her hair still that some shade of blue? If… If only it wasn't so damn dark in her room that night, then she would have been able to that bitch clearly. If she hadn't been wearing that damn assassin outfit, she could pick her out easily, but no… all she has are vague memories and a distorted picture to work with. Was her hair even a light-blue? Maybe her assassin outfit was so tight that it push her body inwards?

"You and my darling Beruka will be off for about a week." She abruptly states. "I'm having a chance to finally meet my adorable Corrin a second time!" She suddenly seems so energetic, like she isn't constantly overworked. "Which is why I'm leaving both of you behind. I need to be able to get there as soon as possible!"

"Of course. This camp will stand when you return."

"Oh, I know. Nothing gets by either of you, right?" She giggles as she turns to leave.

"...Of course." Except her father and that assassin. "I will find her, mother and father." She whispers to herself, "I will find her and I will run her through with the same blade that took your life, Father." She takes a breath to stop the emotions from swelling too much.

Besides, there's a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what will Selena do when she finally manages to figure out and corner this assassin?


	3. The Rose's Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, Camilla is up next! Huh, what's that? You thought Odin's new backstory would be? Nah...
> 
> For those of you who are wanting to know what exactly the doting yet also murderous Princess of Nohr has been up to, well here you go.

Camilla let out a weary sigh as she awoke early in the morning. She truly didn't want to leave Krakenburg already, she wants to spend another day, another week with Corrin. She wants to be there for him every day, but… the King has his orders, and to disobey would end in High Treason. Forcing her weary body up, she grabs her still damaged armor. She would have had it repaired, but she would do anything to make Corrin happy.

Her empty coin purse proves that fact. As she left herself without a single gold coin, all of it went towards that one day spent with her adopted little brother. A pang of guilt washes over her, she absolutely  **hates**  lying to him about how he is part of the Nohrian Royal 'family'. Camilla lets out an un-lady-like scoff, she is in no family. To her, Xander and Leo are not brothers, King Garon is no father, and she even disregards her own mother. For blood-relations, Elise is all there is.

But she wouldn't hesitate to take in Corrin as her own.

She grabs the pendant around her neck and opens the locket, a single tiny painting lies inside. It originally was made once Corrin came into the family. It used to have Xander, Camilla, Leo, Corrin, and Elise. Not anymore. Camilla had delicately cut out Xander and Leo, and all that remains is Camilla holding two wonderful youths. This picture lies in her locket, a treasure beyond all other treasures. With it, Corrin and Elise are with her wherever she goes.

"Lady Camilla." The monotone voice of the once-assassin and now retainer, Beruka, calls out. "The list is ready."

Elise and Corrin are with her… even as she leaves for months at a time. "One moment, dear." She has a sad smile as she takes up her axe once more and walks out.

"All he intends to do it run our liege into the ground!" Her other, more fiery tempered retainer, Selena nearly yells.

"Now now, darling. Save that for our targets, okay?" She offers a gentle smile.

"Of course, Lady Camilla." She defuses just as quickly. Camilla was about to go over the list, until she noticed Selena with a distanced look on her face. Camilla gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "My apologies, I'm just… remembering things that have happened to me." She moves away from her caring hand and both picks up and sheathes her sword. "I'm ready whenever."

Camilla knows that Selena has had a troubled history, but she always refuses to go into it. Selena is an exceptional fighter, even making a name for herself when she was but a woman entering her teenage years. What sort of trials did her darling Selena go through? What are the things she's seen? They must have been horrible, if she was able to take up mercenary work at such a young age.

"Let's see," Camilla hums as she looks the list over. "First, we're heading northwest from the border of the Bottomless Canyon. There are reports of frequent Pegasus Knights." She pauses, "Beruka dear, is my wyvern ready?"

"No, Lady Camilla. He still needs rest, anymore stress and his wing might tear off." She replies without a shred of emotion.

"I see… then, you won't mind if I use yours once more?"

"All that I have is yours, Lady Camilla."

Camilla internally sighs, "I'm going to need you two tackle… this one, then." She looks the list over, "Several more bandit camps have popped up along the main roads. The Nohrian army is too spread out to deal with them. I trust you two can handle this?" She looks at her two retainers.

"Too easy." Selena scoffs.

"It would be unwise to enter a fight with such brashness. But yes, Lady Camilla, you can count on us." Beruka nods.

"Good." A pause, "We'll meet back at… this town." She marks a town along the main road, "Then we can plan the next set. Good luck, my sweet and lovely retainers." She offers a smile.

Yet, as she takes up Beruka's wyvern once more, she can't help but feel terrible.

"I won't take as long this time, dear Corrin. I swear it." With a cold voice, Camilla takes off.

* * *

The cold Nohrian air hits the eldest Nohrian princess as she flies high. Beruka's wyvern holds little complaints, "I'm sorry dear, I know you would rather have my darling Beruka, wouldn't you?" Camilla receives a screech in response, "I know…" She coos at the dragon-like mount. For seemingly hours, the two glide across the sky, with the mountains around the Bottomless Canyon growing ever larger.

It didn't take long to reach, nor did it take long to spot the group of Pegasus Knights. Indeed, there were too many to simply be a scouting group, not to mention the fact that they have more than crossed the border. Readying her axe, she swoops in. "Wyvern Rider!" One of them calls out, "Only one!"

"She's looking for a quick death!" Another shouts.

"Don't take this personal, sweeties," Camilla starts, "but you've crossed the border, and Nohr doesn't take kindly to lawbreakers." Two of them fly towards her, one on each side. Camilla banks to the left and forcefully deflects the oncoming blow, before tearing into the mount's wing, sending both it and its rider falling to their deaths. The other one hesitated after such a quick kill and Camilla took that pause to outright behead the Pegasus, another rider that falls to her death. "Is that all?" She asks in a sultry tone, a huge contrast to the murderous intent in her eyes.

"R-Retreat! She killed the captain!" The remaining three darted off, but Camilla quickly managed to get to one of them, one slash cleaved into the beast's side and another bisected the rider herself.

"By the gods, what  **is**  she?!" One of the remaining two screamed as both of their Pegasi speed up.

"Get back here!" Camilla shouted as she rears Beruka's wyvern to speed up, "I'm sorry, darling. I'll be sure to get you some extra special treats later." She coos at the dragon-like mount, earning a screech in response. Camilla continued to chase down as the Pegasi Knights swoop down into the Bottomless Canyon, probably thinking they can outmaneuver her… she's going to prove them dead wrong. "Die!" She cleaves into a wing of one of the Pegasus, sending both it and its rider into the depths, she then happened to look in front of her, seeing a face she wasn't expecting. "...Corrin?" For a moment, her visible eye flashes with the utmost affection, before switching back to cold murder as she locks onto the last Pegasus Knight, "You won't harm my dear Corrin!" Another beheaded Pegasus.

Satisfied, she guides the borrowed wyvern over to Corrin and… "Little sister?" Why is Elise here? "What's going on?"

"Ah, Lady Camilla," A voice she recognizes as the strict veteran known as Gunter, "How wonderful…"

"Silence." She says with such a dangerous aura that it even forces his mouth to snap shut, "I know you are one of the people who caused my lovely Corrin so much pain," Despite her exhaustion, she raises her axe once more, "Or did you think me too foolish to notice?"

"Lady Camilla, please listen, I…"

"No!" She cuts him off, "You've caught me on a bad day, boy. There's only one outcome for you." Even so, she grabs her pendant and takes it off, "Here, darling." Once more, her gaze is of the loving, doting big sister, "Please, leave Nohr. I can never take back what has happened to you, but I swear I will make them pay." She tosses her cherished pendant to Corrin, who easily snatches it out of the air. "And as for you…" Murderous intent rises once more as she faces Gunter.

"Lady Camilla, please, if I could have the chance to explain." Corrin and the others have started walking off towards Hoshido.

"I need no explanation, fool." Alongside a screech from Beruka's wyvern, Camilla charges against Gunter.

The man grunts, rears his horse, and lashes out with a sword. "I have my reasons for training Corrin as I did!" He shouts as the two exchange blows. "I only…"

"You abused him!" Even with her exhaustion, she manages to hold her ground… but not much more.

"I needed him to…"

"I don't care!" She has since taken a few hits, but also returned some in kind. "My darling Corrin is scarred! Damaged! And I will repay each and every wound ten-fold!" A deep cut is made in the man's horse.

"Lady Camilla…" He sighs as he deflects another, and fails to land one himself. "If you won't listen now, then I'll be sure to explain in it detail while you're recovering!"

"I think it's time for you to retire for good, old man." Another strike and his horse crumples to the ground, "Die!" One heavy strike and his armor is cleaved through, but he still stands. "Pay for what you've done!" Weakened, Gunter takes the blow head on, literally. Camilla cleaved into his skull, Gunter drops to the ground, finally dead. She turns and sees that Corrin has managed to leave. She dismounted Beruka's wyvern, which is starting to get as strained as her own. "Don't worry, I won't…" With the adrenaline fading, Camilla collapsed on the ground, "force you to fly…" At last, the consecutive years of near endless missions has gotten to her, all in the moment of protecting what she loves most.

Her chest is heaving deep breaths as she stands. With Corrin and Elise going to Hoshido… should she stay in Nohr?

No. The internal answer is quick and definite. There is no doubt in her mind that she will… no, she needs to go with Elise and Corrin. "One moment." She coos at the wyvern as she pulls out some paper that she always keeps on hand, she writes a short message, then stuffs it in the saddle of Beruka's wyvern, "When you're all rested up, darling. Return to Beruka, okay?" She pets the massive winged animal like it's a common house pet. A screech is her response once more, and with that. She staggers forward, abandoning Nohr for Hoshido.

However, she barely managed to exit the Bottomless Canyon before she collapsed onto the ground, her body spent. Even her axe, which usually is near weightless due to how used she is to it, feels like a several hundred pound horse. "He's safe." She assures herself, "She's safe. Corrin and Elise are safe… it's alright… if I… take a… break." As she speaks to herself, she manages to drag herself slightly off the main road, near a number of trees and bushes. "Heh… the sun here feels so… good."

* * *

Camilla wakes up only slightly rested, her body is still sore, her armor is dented and torn in a number of spots, and her axe has blood encrusted stains and dulling edges. Yet, none of that mattered to her right now. No, there was something far more important than anything.

Corrin's and Elise's well-being. She instinctively reaches for the pendant resting around her neck, with a need to look at the picture that lies within… then she remembers she gave that very pendant to Corrin. "Oh, my dear Corrin and sweet Elise…" She says as she slowly rises from her prone position. "I'm coming for you, I promise."

Camilla reached for her axe and placed it upon her back once more… before noting the strange feeling that came with holding the axe, she felt… nothing. No urge to rain vengeance on those who wronged Elise and Corrin. After that, she remembered that the Queen holds some sort of powerful barrier that extends throughout Hoshido, one that removes any ill-intent towards Hoshidans.

So she instead thinks of the Nohrians who caused her two darlings so much harm… and there it is, the anger and rage that will fuel her in slicing them apart, as she had those Pegasus Knights. Smiling to herself, she resumes her walk, unable to bring her body to do anything faster. Hour by hour, she walks along the brightly lit Hoshidan plains, continuously awed by just how… right this land is compared to Nohr. She had always been used to the near-absence of the sun, the almost dead lands, the lack of trees and grass.

Here? Green grass as far as the eye can see. Tall and strong trees rise high, with their leaves and branches swaying in the winds. A sun that shines brightly. Lakes in the distance. Everything in Hoshido just seems so lively. Is this the work of the Dawn Dragon? Are Her lands fruitful? Do they bear ore and minerals as well as the Dusk Dragon's lands do?

It almost seems like two sides of the same coin. He provides ground-rich minerals and metals, whilst She provides plants and wildlife…

So, what if He and She were to work together on a single land? A land of Dusk and Dawn?

Camilla scoffs and shakes her head, no that won't happen. At least, not as long as her fa… as King Garon holds the throne. But, if she were Queen of Nohr? She would work to ensure that Nohr and Hoshido can be at peace, that the animosity between these two nations cease. She stops for a moment and considers those very thoughts. What sort of Princess would want to remove the very King of the land she lives in?

What sort of King would allow such devastation to his own land? Garon doesn't care for Nohr, as he has his eyes set on Hoshido.

Camilla refuses to be a part of his reign. She will align herself with Hoshido if it meant stopping that tyrant. Breaking herself from her thoughts, Camilla resumes walking. She has two adorable people to reach.

* * *

Despite how much her muscles are screaming in protest, Camilla keeps walking. She refuses to stop until she can see Corrin and Elise again. The only rest she has been getting is when she collapses from exhaustion. Walk, fall down, rest, get up, walk, the cycle repeats itself. Eventually, a town comes into view.

With her armor torn and muddied, and her body dirty, she decides to give in and walks towards this village. She has some gold, but it surely wouldn't even be enough for a half-night's stay in an inn.

When she is within sight of the village guards, they call her out, clearly wary of the blood and dirt stained woman who has a bloodied axe on her back. Yet, instead of raising their own lances and swords at her, they shout something at the villagers, Camilla's too tired to register what they're saying.

Shortly after, a few villagers holding some basket, and a few other ones who clearly do the heavy lifting, all but sprint towards her. Camilla's nose is hit with a sweet smell from the basket. The burly villagers wrap their arms to support her and the other ones mix some of the herbs together into a paste of sorts, before diluting it with water, forming a drink of sorts.

"Please ma'am, drink." One of them offers the drink, before seeming to realize she can't do so on her own. Camilla weakly nods, and she places the cup on her lips, slowly tilting the cup up. The concoction comes out sweeter than Camilla expected it to be, taking into consideration that it is a healing potion. Yet, despite the healing involved, it does nothing for her stamina. As such, she ends up closing her eyes and falling into a sleep, with the villagers shifting around to outright carry her.

* * *

Camilla awakens to see she's in a bed of sorts, with a simple dress of sorts covering her. Her body has already been washed and she feels so much better than before. She rises, before hissing at the sudden soreness. "Ma'am?" A young woman walks in, she can't be much older than Elise, "How are you feeling?" She has these cute little freckles peppering her cheeks. She offers a nervous smile while wringing her hands.

"Better than I've felt in years." Camilla admits, and to be honest, it's true. She's never had a real break since… since she's been able to wield her axe, actually. Well, she did have some days off when she was still training, but it seems like the day she held both Elise and Corrin in her arms, the day that she doted on them to no end, was the same day she was given a list of tasks, and it has been like that since.

Months of tasks, maybe a day or two in Krakenburg, then more months of tasks. At first, she would spend that one day with Elise in Krakenburg, since Corrin was sent to the Northern Castle, but soon after Elise was getting similar treatment. When that happened, Camilla found a new distraction, another group she could dote on…

The children in the Krakenburg orphanage.

And oh, how she loved to do that! Without Elise or Corrin within reach, she instead extended her love to these beautiful, if mistreated, set of children. The first few times were the hardest, since a Princess tried to connect to them. They were all wary, but with time they've come to consider her 'Mama'. Camilla would spend the entire day with these darling people, carelessly spending gold to make sure they got as much as she could afford.

She was the light of their lives, and they were the light of hers.

Her worries shot up, as well as her actual body, as she thought of them. Are they well? What will they think of her sudden departure? A chunk of her instantly felt horrid for leaving all of them behind like that.

"Ma'am? Do you need anything?" The young woman asked.

And by His shadow, did she just want to pinch this cute little woman's cheek as her nervousness just makes her so much more adorable. "No thank you, sweetie." Camilla smiles, "But I should be asking you the same. You… your village took me in without question, you all helped a complete stranger. Is there anything I can do to return the favor?"

She gasps, then quickly shakes her head, "No! Don't feel like you need to do anything, ma'am. It's only natural to help others!"

Camilla offers her best motherly smile and it seems to relax the other, "Oh, don't worry about it now, then. I'm sure at least on of you will think of something." She slowly starts to rise, "Well, I believe I need to walk around a bit, lest my body get stiff."

"Uh… oh! Ma'am? My name is Mozu. What's your name?" She quickly asks as Camilla was just about to exit.

"Pr…" She stops herself, "Camilla. Just Camilla." She turns around and crouches down just a bit, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mozu."

"Camilla? That's a pretty name. And… it's nice to meet you, too." Mozu smiles.

"Not as cute as you, Mozu." Then the villager flushes brightly, "Again, thank you." With that, she walks out.

* * *

The villagers all proved to be just as caring as Mozu herself. Camilla was constantly greeted with 'how are you?', 'are you sure you're okay to walk now?', and 'my name is_, what's yours?' For Camilla, it was near overwhelming. All of these people, so openly kind and loving…

Such a far cry from the townspeople in Nohr.

It was so touching, that Camilla almost found herself crying in happiness multiple times.

Soon enough, Camilla met the village leader himself. He and his wife were a fair bit older, if maybe… a decade older? "By Her light, I'm so pleased to see you well, ma'am." The elder greeted. "When you arrived so beaten down, dragging your body as you were, we were so worried."

"I've never received such wonderful treatment from anyone as kind as you all." Camilla smiles, "I've asked this of mostly everyone, but I want to ask you personally. Is there absolutely anything I can do for you all?"

A hesitant pause, and Camilla instinctively knew something was about to be asked, "In a moment." He simply replied, a worried expression crossing his face.

"I understand." Camilla nodded, "And you! You look so wonderful for your age, dear." She directs her doting gaze to his wife.

She flushes, "Oh, no need to be so reserved. I'm old and I'm not ashamed of it."

Camilla giggles, "And there's no need to be so modest. You certainly still carry the posture of a young maiden."

"Oh dear…" The wife is now actually looking away, "I'm not sure if I can take such praise."

"I'm having our smithy work on your armor, ma'am…" The elder hesitates, "But I'm afraid we don't have the right ore for it."

"It's alright. As long as it protects." Camilla smiles.

The elder takes a glance at his wife, before they both nod, "If you don't ma'am?" The elder gestures towards one of the buildings.

"Of course." The elder walks, with Camilla right behind him, and it wasn't until they entered the house that she spoke up, "Is it safe to assume that there is a problem?"

"You seem to be the fighting type?" He asks.

A pause, "I am."

"There have been… troubles across Hoshido. A nearby village has almost been torn down, but it isn't because of bandits."

"Faceless?" Camilla knows the Nohrian's use of mindless creatures all too well. There have been a few times where she has had to save one of Nohr's own towns from them.

"So, you've fought them before?" He asks, nodding.

"I have." She affirms.

"Is there any advice you can give our guards? We have few and they're trained for ill-equipped bandits, not magical monstrosities."

"I'll do anything I can, darling." Camilla smiles, "All you need to do is ask."

* * *

With her axe sharpened and her armor repaired with Hoshidan ore, Camilla took up the elder's offer and started training the guards. There wasn't much she could teach in terms of tactics, since the Faceless are mindless without a Mage directing them. "They'll always attack the biggest threat." She states. "Stand up straight, be brave, show assertiveness. These creatures don't care for anything, even their own summoners. Fight them in pairs of two at the least. One in front, one in back, and preferably someone at range." She pauses, "I realize that there won't be enough if there is even a squad's worth of Faceless, but just stay calm. Faceless can't think strategically. You know your own town, they don't, use what you have to your advantage. Even something as simple as digging a few holes in the ground can help tremendously." Another pause as she looks them over, "They are large and bulky, if one of them falls down, it will take them longer to get back up. I would suggest setting up even a few tripwires at the gates."

"Miss Camilla, what about fighting them head on?" One of them asks. "What should we look out for?"

"Yeah, I heard they only have fists."

"They do," She looks at the two, "But do not underestimate them. Their fists bite harder than a grown bear's claws. Their swings take time, again, stay calm and you'll be able to dodge them just fine.  **Dodge** ," She repeats, "Don't ever try to block them." Yet another pause, "And that's it, really. Without a mage properly guiding them, there isn't much else I can tell you."

"Have you fought them a lot, miss Camilla?"

A dark expression covers her face, "I have. I have fought them, and I've seen what happens when they aren't stopped." She hefts her axe over her shoulder, "But I… we won't let that happen to this village. We'll stand tall and repel them." She smiles as she receives an inspired shout in response.

* * *

Several days has passed since Camilla has stayed at this village. The guard has been taught and trained as well as they can. She can only offer so much, after all. However, the stillness is getting to her. Where is Corrin and Elise at this point? Have they reached Shirasagi? Has Corrin met his real family by now? Has…

A screech echoes in the air, and while the guards immediately ready spears and bows. "Hold." Camilla says. "He's friendly." From the sky swoops down Camilla's wyvern, looking far more refreshed than he has when she left. "Oh, my dear, sweet darling." She coos at the massive draconic beast. The wyvern practically melts under Camilla's cooing, "Are you feeling better? Is your wing all nice and healed?" He lets out a screech in response. To some, it all sounds the same, to her, she knows that specific screech is satisfaction.

"A… wyvern?"

"Wyverns are Nohrian."

"Camilla is Nohrian?"

The questions and whispers come en masse. "Miss Camilla?" Mozu is actually the one to direct her question right at her, "Are you… Nohrian?"

"My sweet Mozu… once upon a time I would have answered yes." She coos, "But, not anymore. I would never take my axe up for Nohr again." She gives the entire village a serious look, "Nohr has hurt two people that I cherish above all. Nohr has taken from me time and time again. I meant it when I said this: I've never felt so refreshed in years. I've been sent on 'tasks' for months at a time, with but a day of rest in between." She hefts her axe over her shoulder, "I swear on His shadows, if I'm fighting, it's against Nohr. Nohr is no longer my home." As if in response, her wyvern shrieks. "Oh, of course I'll fight for you too, dear." Yet another screech as she pets his head.

"A Nohrian is wanting to fight against her homeland?"

"Are things truly so bad in Nohr?"

"That's… insane!"

"Hold! Peace!" The elder exclaims, "I…"

"Faceless!" A sentry shouts, "West side!"

"I'll try and thin their numbers before they reach the village!" Camilla shouts, "Let's go, we have a village to protect!" Mounting her beloved wyvern, she takes off with axe in hand. "Nohr won't take anything else from me." She mutters as she swoops down and decapitates a Faceless with ease. She lifts back up, narrowly avoiding a fist. "Oh dear, it seems these are stronger than normal, too…" She tuts as she swoops in for another strike, only for her to lift right back up. "This… isn't right." Faceless normally aren't this… with a realization dawned on her face, she flies back. "There's a mage controlling them!" She shouts out as she lands in front of the gate. "They're too organized."

"Wh-What?!" one of the guards start trembling, "Then this was for…?"

"What do we do now?!"

"I thought the Queen's barrier stopped all Nohrian aggression!"

"...Then that means a Hoshidan is controlling the Faceless." Camilla mutters. It's so ironic, that if these people's lives weren't in danger, Camilla would laugh. A Nohrian fighting against Nohrian units, while a Hoshidan leads those Nohrians. Shaking her head, Camilla makes a decision in that moment, she's not leaving the others to track down that mage. Maybe if she were fighting alongside veterans, or at least soldiers who've seen a few battles, but no.

These guards are as fresh as they come. Besides, it takes time for a mage to summon more Faceless, not to mention the fact that the Faceless may end up beating the mage to death anyway.

With that in mind, she swoops down and dismounts, "Let's stay together, alright?" She wields her axe, while her wyvern covers the rear. "I swear, I'll do everything I can to keep you all alive."

"...Thank you, Camilla." One of them responds.

Nodding, Camilla pulls out a worn Fire tome. She has only replaced it once, but since she's far better at chopping her enemies apart, she's never really had a reason to fine-tune her casting… but in this moment, she wishes she had. "Fire!" She sends a single ball of fire at one of the Faceless, it staggers and doesn't do much more than a burn, but every little bit counts. Camilla shoots out another and another, and it isn't until the first set of Faceless reach the gate that she stops and puts the tome back. Now with four Faceless staggered enough to be several feet behind, she holds her ground, "Alright darlings, brace yourselves!" Camilla expertly weaves around the first punch, before slicing off the offending arm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees one of the guards make another cut into the now one-armed Faceless. There, if she can cripple the Faceless, they'll have a much easier time taking them, and if they can take care of a few more, then all of them will have an easier time. Nodding to herself, she goes and slices into another one, but this time her axe doesn't cut all the way through…

Has she not rested enough? Or… or has her axe not been sharpened enough? She yanks her axe back as she narrowly avoids a strike. It has to be the latter, the blacksmith obviously isn't trained in making or maintaining weapons. No, it's alright, she can still make this work.

Then her wyvern screeches, "They're flanking us!" She calls out, instantly understanding whatever comes out of her mount's maw. "Damn…" She scowls as she cuts off the arm of the one she already struck, before getting slammed in the chest by another Faceless. Camilla heaves a breath, and narrowly dodges the next one, more out of luck than with any actual grace. "Is this how I… repay the kindness shown me?!" With a rage, she bisects the offending Faceless, its upper and lower half severed from each other. "As long as I stand, this village won't fall!" Two arms from two separate Faceless falls off, Camilla's murderous side is showing once more.

"One of them is charging a house!" One of the soldiers call out, "I need to…"

"No! Stay!" Camilla counters, "My dear wyvern…?" With a screech, her mount takes off and flies towards the new menace. "Don't break off, you'll make yourself an easy target!"

...and then the Faceless scatter, each going for a different building.

"No…" She scowls, "Never mind that last order, protect the villagers!" It's a risk, but she can't let them die. Yet, in the pit of her stomach she knew, everyone isn't coming out of this one alive. Charging the nearest Faceless, she cleaves its head off, as determined it is to take out the villagers instead of defending itself.

Pushing through her soreness, she goes for another Faceless… before getting a glancing blow from a… new Faceless? How?! It literally popped out of nowhere! Shaking off the daze, she readies herself against the…

Gods, it's huge, even for Faceless standards. This one towers over Camilla, its fists have gauntlets on them, adorned with spikes. Noticing that, she feels the warm trickle of blood coming from her side, a spot of her armor that was recently repaired. She can't let this one focus anyone else, they won't stand a chance!

...She doubts she can even take it out herself.

Planting her feet, she stands strong as it charges. She weaves around the first punch and lands her own strike, yet the axe barely cuts more than skin deep. Caught off guard by just how tough it is, she gets backhanded by the fist that just missed her. "You're just asking for it now…" She lands a savage blow on that same wrist, managing about a third of the way before she has to pull her axe back out. How can a single Faceless be so tough? Another fist strikes her, but it's no longer a glancing blow. The air gets knocked out of her as her chest is on the receiving end of a spiked fist. "By… His shadow…" Fighting through the pain, she staggers back, creating just enough space to prevent herself from being slammed into the ground. "Shalim, please… not here." She coughs up some blood.

Her plea for her own Dragon God seems to go unanswered.

Then the massive Faceless does something she has never seen one do before. It grabs her axe, yanks it away, and tosses it aside…

Even the most experienced mage couldn't give an order like that.

Left with but a Fire tome, she readies it regardless, refusing to crumple down despite the odds. "F-Fire!" Yet, as she should have expected, it doesn't even seem to register as a hit for this thing. "I won't fall! I refuse to let them down!  **Shalim** , by the gods, if you don't answer me…" What a fool she is, sending threats to Nohr's…

A cloud of shadows wraps around the giant Faceless's head, but that's it. It's… better than nothing. However, her wyvern screeches a moment later and swoops in, clawing into the Faceless's neck with ease. Finally, finally it falls. And with its fall, the other Faceless disperse, as if that Faceless was the leader, rather than a mage.

But the damage has already been done.

She had hoped to never see another scene like it, but here it was. A village partially destroyed by Faceless, a village she had just sworn to protect, one that nurtured and cared for her without a second thought.

How could she protect Corrin and Elise if she can't even uphold a single promise?

With the adrenaline fading, she collapses to the ground, her Fire tome dropping away from her. "Camilla!" One of the guards calls her out.

"I'm… so sorry." She croaks out, ashamed. "All that you offered me, and I…" The stress kicks in and she starts crying right there.

"It would have been worse if you hadn't arrived, Camilla." The elder arrives. "For what it's worth, thank you."

"But…" She gestures around them, several buildings… no, several houses were demolished, dozens of corpses litter the area, "They fell because I couldn't protect you all."

"We can rebuild." He offers a smile, "We'll give them a proper burial." He now offers his hand as well, "Please stand, Camilla. Frankly, we came out of this better than the other villages that have gotten these random Faceless attacks."

"M-Mother…?" A distant voice sobs. "Mother?!  **Mother**!" Camilla looks in that direction and sees Mozu, crouched over a fallen woman. A child stripped of her mother.

In Mozu, she sees yet another scenario that she has seen enough of. Camilla grew up without proper parents, Elise and Corrin the same. Camilla tried to fill in that gap before, but the same day she was found doting on those two, she was sent on endless missions. The difference this time?

She isn't in Nohr anymore.

"One moment, please." Camilla says as she stands up, her side still lightly bleeding. She stands tall as she walks over to the crying Mozu. "Darling?" She coos as she kneels beside her. "I…" For once, she doesn't know exactly what to say.

"Mother… she's…" While the village woman is too shocked to form a proper response.

"Come here, dear." She coos as she opens her arms, bringing in her for a deep, caring hug. "Shhh, it's okay to cry." She chokes on her own tears, "It's okay to lean on someone else."

"Mother… mother…" Mozu repeatedly whimpers as Camilla rubs a hand through her hair, trying so hard to soothe her.

Someone clears their throat, "Camilla?" It's the elder again, "We need someone to report what has happened here to the Queen, and since you have the most experience…" he trails off.

"First father… and now mother…" Mozu continues.

Camilla looks at Mozu, then the elder, and back to Mozu. "I can't just leave you all." The elder places a hand on her shoulder, then slowly shakes his head. Something in his gaze tells her he knows.

This won't be the last attack, and only an entire squad would have a chance at saving them.

"I understand." She relents.

"Mozu?" The elder stoops down slightly to her, "I want you to leave with Camilla, okay?"

Mozu gasps, "But…? The village! My… I couldn't!"

"You'll be safer with her." The elder shares a look with Camilla, who nods.

Protecting a few is far easier than entire village. "I know I can never fill in the same role, but I swear I'll do everything I can to help you, Mozu." Mozu turns to Camilla, eyes wide. "But I also won't force this on you. If you don't want…"

Mozu quickly tightens her hug, "Don't leave me, please."

Camilla, despite it all, smiles. "I won't, darling." She then looks back at the elder, "Is there anything else you need me to do before I head out?"

"For what it's worth, thank you." He simply replies. "We can live to see another day thanks to your efforts… Lady Camilla." His aged eye twinkles as he barely mutters the 'Lady' part.

"...You knew."

"It's hard to not recognize His symbol, despite how worn it is on your armor." He nods, "I don't know what transpired to force even one of the Royals out of their own land, nor do I wish to know. In the end, I'm grateful that you stood for Hoshido. You will forever have our gratitude and support, even if the rest of the world stands against you." He smiles, "Have a safe journey. May Her light shine your path."

"And may His shadow obscure you from your enemies." She replies in kind. "Come, dry your tears, sweet Mozu." She coos once more, only to realize that the woman has fallen asleep in her arms. "I… suppose we'll rest for a while before we leave, then." She gives him a gentle smile.

"Very well." The elder nods once more, "Have a good rest." With that, he turns and goes to tend to other people.

As Camilla lifted the sleeping woman, she couldn't help but notice that the elder walked alone. She frowns, his wife must have fallen…

Slowly shaking her head, she carries Mozu to one of the now-vacant houses, with the smaller woman bundling closer to Camilla, even clutching at her body. Lying down with her, Camilla wraps Mozu in a hug as the two fall asleep. Two women, stripped of parents, and afterwards they will leave for Shirasagi where Camilla will hope to find Corrin and Elise… two more people devoid of any actual parents.

Nohr has taken so much, and Camilla has a feeling that soon, Nohr will stop taking and instead pay for what they've done. As for every child like Mozu, Corrin, Elise, herself, and everyone in the orphanage, Camilla will make Nohr pay ten-fold. No matter how many axes she has to go through,  **they**  will be punished!


	4. Her Last Contract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follows up Selena's chapter and wraps things up in a nice bow. Like with Selena's chapter, this one is a split PoV between Beruka and Selena. It goes Beruka then Selena, and continues to alternate in that order.

Beruka remained silent as she read over the latest list that details the tasks needed to be done by her liege, Lady Camilla, as well as her retainers, Beruka and Selena. The tasks usually have at least one word with 'bandit', though there are some that desires an investigation, and another involving encroaching Hoshidans.

It's all a waste of time.

Lady Camilla doesn't need to tell her, regardless of how well she can hide it. The cycle has been like this since the day her liege first met Lord Corrin. Receive a list of tasks, slowly get them done, return to Krakenburg for a day or two, and go out with another set of tasks. Beruka can hide her irritation on the matter very well. Why is her liege having to put up with this? Beruka may be near emotionless, but that doesn't mean she can't understand the pain in her liege's eyes, how she sometimes whimpers at night, calling for Lord Corrin and Lady Elise. The days where she thinks she has completely removed all traces of dried tears.

But, Beruka is more suited for fighting than emotional support.

But, then again, so is Selena.

The once-assassin spares a glance over at the red-hair retainer, who is currently twirling the pointed end of her sword on the ground. Selena has made her own reputation when she was younger. A girl, barely even entering her teenage years, traveling the lands working as a mercenary. She has a sense of duty that puts even an elite guard's to shame.

Beruka too, has made her own reputation, but this was through her skills as an assassin. Growing up in the slums, she was taken in by a man she called her tutor, a man who could had even been her father figure. A man she killed herself. It the utmost highest of ironies, this happened both with the skills he taught her and the line of work he set her on. No contract killer lives to see old age. Assassins that live a long time have seen and heard many compromising details, and the ones nearing the 'end' of their days sometimes even give up their line of work and sell the information they've learned. Beruka is no exception to this rule. She has also seen and heard many small details as she waits for a target to get to a certain location or whatever document the target may have on them.

Yet, when she looks at Selena, all she can see is that one night. Would have it been better to end her, too? Would Beruka still be here today? If she was, then who would be her liege's other retainer? Would this new retainer be as skilled as Selena?

"This is stupid!" Selena finally shouts, "Why must our liege put up with this?! They're working her to the bone, but always expect more!"

And when Beruka actually thinks about it, there is no one else she'd rather fight with. Selena is a true prodigy when it comes to combat. "Lady Camilla is simply following orders, as we should."

"Beruka, she using  **your**  wyvern because Lady Camilla's is recovering!" She snarls as the sword twirling finally stops.

There are also times when Selena gets truly angered, that there is this… flare in her eyes. Like using flint to spark a flame. "As her retainers…"

"Shouldn't we be caring for more than just her combat-related needs?" She cuts her off.

Then there are the times where Beruka wonders what exactly Selena would do if she did, in fact, were to learn the fact of that one night. "Selena, you know I'm unable to do that."

"Then…!" Whatever she had to say was cut off as Lady Camilla finally exited that room.

There are also the rare occasions that when Beruka looks at Selena, all she sees is an angered child, pushed to the floor. A child spared from her axe to end her life to join her father's. Selena was only truly spared because it wasn't her name on the contract, Beruka had no reason to kill her. "Now now, my darling retainers." Lady Camilla coos as she walks straight to Selena, "Let's save that for our targets."

"...Of course, Lady Camilla." Selena concedes as their liege is within arm's distance.

"Aw… now what's gotten you so down, sweet Selena?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just… thinking about what's happened." Selena then picks up her sword and sheathes it, "I'm ready." Beruka can take a pretty good guess on what exactly she's thinking of, she recognizes that look almost every time Selena takes up that sword.

"Dear Beruka, is my wyvern safe to use?" Lady Camilla now walks over to her other retainer.

"Unfortunately no. Anymore stress and his wing may tear off completely." Beruka closes her eyes for a moment. "My wyvern is always available if you need him, Lady Camilla."

"Oh, you are too kind." Her liege smiles as she takes another step closer, "I'll be sure to take the highest care of him." Beruka offers the paper in hand and she gladly takes it. "So! I will head out and deal with this Pegasi spotting in Nohrian territory. I want you two to start taking care of some bandit issues in the meantime. We'll meet up at… this town and work from there."

"As you command, Lady Camilla." Beruka nods.

"Pfft, bandits." Selena scoffs.

"Even so, we shouldn't run in without a proper plan." The once-assassin flatly states. "All it takes is one well-placed shot."

"I know." Selena bites back. "I can watch myself."

"Darlings?" Camilla asks, "Let's go."

* * *

Beruka and Selena have both arrived at the stables, the air between them has been silent, as Beruka expects. Both aren't exactly conversation material, with one being outwardly cold and silent, and the other being hot-headed and prickly. It's hard to imagine they'd be able to do anything well together… but, that's where their skill in combat brings them together. They are nigh-unstoppable when working together, as each know each other so well, each one can cover the other's weak points.

"Why the hell is there only one horse!?" Selena shouts. "What sort of bull is that?"

"Then we'll use the one." Beruka calmly replies.

"I'm  **not**  sharing a horse with you!"

"Then we'll walk."

"There's no way we'll be able to get to our rendezvous point in time!"

Selena is fuming while Beruka opts to close her eyes for a moment, a sudden headache making its way through her. "Then what do you suggest we do? Dally around and wait for someone to come back with a horse? Whose to say someone else will come by and take this one?"

"Fine. Fine!" Selena throws her hands up in the air, "But you're leading the horse."

"Horses respond better to you, Selena." It's… strange. One might think that a calm demeanor would help someone ride a horse better, but not with Selena. For some reason, her fiery temper only serves to help her in that aspect.

Perhaps it just goes to show that she's destined to be a Bow Knight?

Beruka has noticed that Selena has yet to respond, instead she has crossed her arms and simply glared at her. She then jerks her body away and walks over to the only horse, getting the saddle ready and climbing on. Selena wordlessly guides the horse over to Beruka, who climbs on shortly afterwards. "Better keep your hands to yourself." She spits out before they ride off.

* * *

Despite the ride also being as silent as the walk over to the stables, it somehow seems even more quiet. It's probably due to the noise around them. The horse may occasionally neigh, its hooves clop against the ground, and the two retainers keep their mouths shut. The only true sound one could maybe hear is the sound of their breathing. The cold, biting Nohrian air hits Beruka every passing moment. Yet… yet.

It does nothing for her. It's almost… comforting.

Beruka has always been more resistant to the cold, unlike Selena, who has an extra jacket over her normal set of armor. If she were the joking type, she might say it has to do with the once assassin's cold heart.

But Beruka doesn't joke around, so that wouldn't come out of her lips.

"It's in sight." Selena suddenly says, "From here, it looks deserted."

Beruka poked her head out from behind Selena and looked ahead. Sure enough, the place seemed deserted… but empty buildings were a favorite among bandits. "Prepare for a fight." She simply states.

"Well, duh! Of course there's bandits there!"

Selena has been… increasingly agitated lately, Beruka notes as she's already staring her down. "We need to focus on the mission, Selena."

"Yeah yeah, just get off and get ready." She turns her head and looks ahead. Beruka gets off and looks over her axe one more time. She admittedly misses the feel of her wyvern, but Lady Camilla needs him more. Selena soon follows, sword in hand. Beruka notices it's the same sword she always uses… does Selena even realize how much gold went into repairing it? It doesn't help that the ore is Hoshidan. How many meals could she have bought if she just got a different sword with more common metals? Beruka could even assume that metals like steel would be cheaper.

Yet, here she is, using the sword her father used.

At least she knew her father.

"Let's move." Beruka states, pushing the past away. With that, the two enter the abandoned town.

The mercenary and the once-assassin walk within roughly a sword's distance from each other. Step by step, moment by moment passed on, yet the town remained strangely deserted. There were signs of bandits to be sure: broken doors and windows, houses looted, mundane and commonplace items left behind, but no actual bandits to speak of.

Not a single living being and no corpses.

"They moved on." Selena assumes, "See! If we each had our own horse…" She rounds on Beruka, who remains as blank as ever.

"I don't see how a second horse would have gotten us here any faster. Perhaps if you weren't lost in your thoughts, you would have lead the beast faster." Is Beruka angry in this moment? No, but that doesn't mean she is also without patience. "Let's see if there are at least tracks left."

And Selena has been extra prickly lately.

The two separate, with Beruka taking East, whilst Selena has West. Double checking the dirt, Beruka does in fact find relatively fresh footsteps… which leads to a house near her. Readying her axe, she follows it.

Once inside that building, there stands a single man, who at first glance, seems more the villager. Beruka scans him over and she can quickly assume he is no villager. He seems nonplussed by her axe, for one. "'Fraid the bandits already bit it, Dragon-axe." His voice comes out cocky. He pushes himself off of the wall, and she can now see the glint of metal on his waist, "Oh, come on! Beruka! It's me!"

Beruka narrows her eyes, "What do you want?" She somewhat remembers him. He was a… 'fellow' assassin, the first time she met him she was on a contract. He happened to have another contract for that same target. After considering the dangers that the defense provided, they agreed to split the profits if they worked together. He and she worked together a few more times after that, but he seemed to have a different idea on what a 'partner' should be like.

He tried wooing her, it ended about as well as any duo-assassin relationship would have.

"Nothing new, really. Still taking up contracts, yeah?" He smiled, "Speaking of, I haven't seen you around for a long time, I don't suppose you happened to have one…"

"Not interested." She cuts him off.

"The gold in it is huge. I'm talking noble-levels of gold for a life. Retire for your life kinds of gold, er… if you manage it well, that is."

"Then why don't you do it?"

"Beruka dear, you know exactly why I'm asking."

"Call me dear again, and I'll be sure to give you more than a scar." He presses a hand to his cheek, perhaps remembering the night he asked her out on a date. She can't deny that it felt good to shut him down like that.

However, she also can't deny that she felt… something for the man. Someone who treated her as a woman.

"Fine, I'll get to the point: I'm asking because your current position gives a huge leverage on the target." He shrugs. "For you, it'd be easy."

A pause as Beruka closes her eyes for a moment, "No. If you are aware of my 'current position', then you know I've already left my days as an assassin."

"Aren't you interested, to say the…"

"Don't toy with me." Her axe glints as she shifts her grip. "I'm not helping you."

"Beruka…" He sighs. "What if I just showed you the written profit?" Without waiting, he digs in his pockets for a paper. "See? I'm talking huge amounts." He had rolled up the paper, as to hide the rest of the important info.

"Billions?" She counts out the zeros. "I'm not assassinating Lady Camilla."

"Nope, wrong." He smiles, "Target isn't her."

"Or any of the Royals."

"Still wrong." He actually starts chuckling. "Interested?" He pockets the paper, "Dragon-axe, I know you enjoyed your time with me. So, how about one more contract, then we can use the profits from this, and whatever we have on us, and we can call it quits." Or… she adds to herself, she could accept it and help stop an assassination. She could also decipher the code on it and find out who wrote it, too.

Yet, she also can't deny that it would feel good to be treated as a woman again.

"Show me."

* * *

Selena scoffed as she looked over her side, finding nothing in terms of tracks. This wreaked of nothing but wrongness for her. This town is pretty well suited for defending on a natural level. Even the most dense of fighter knows that being on the high ground is an advantage. So, where are those stupid bandits!? Did they find a better town?! "Tch." She kicks a rock. Why did Lady Camilla have to send her alone with Beruka near this time of year? "Father…" There's only a few regrets that came with being in service with her liege.

She… actually misses her trips to the old cabin, if only to spend some time talking to a gravestone. It's the only place she lays herself bare enough, to let unshed tears fall. Because, if Gregor can cry, then it's okay for her to cry too. Her mind races back to the memories she had with him, and while nearly all of it is just spent with training, she relished them. "At least you knew your father." She mutters, "Who really had it worse?" And there were times she recalled Laslow's description of his youth. She gripped her sword's hilt tighter as she feels that wound re-open, the pain of having him taken away by Crown Prince Xander.

She hadn't known Laslow for a whole twenty-four hours, but he left an impact that not even Lady Camilla's doting can match. "Why did you have to be so damn nice?" And with Laslow, the image of Olivia's depressed state came in. A woman, the best when it comes to dancing, a woman who clearly once held a pristine figure, looked so sunken and gone when Selena saw her. It still hurts her, she didn't know what to say to calm her down.

"Selena." The other retainer's voice sounds out, "Nothing on my side. Yours?"

"Same. I don't get it, why would bandits leave this place deserted?" She turns around, feeling far less aggressive than earlier… stupid memories of Laslow.

"It doesn't matter 'why'." She replies in that same curt and emotionless manner, "We should head to the rendezvous point to wait for Lady Camilla."

"Yeah yeah." Selena scoffs, "Don't like this place, anyway." She walks off. She hears Beruka sigh, before she also follows. Soon enough, the two exit the immediate area of the town, where the horse has patiently awaited their return. It neighs upon their arrival, looking far more happy than either of the two retainers.

What Selena would give to have that same happiness. She gives the horse a single stroke, before climbing right on with an ease that any horse-rider in training would envy. She's always been good with horses.

Perhaps she should see if she can get training to be a Bow Knight?

Beruka hops on soon afterwards and Selena guides the horse to the next destination, a town that is along Nohr's main road. From there, they will get two rooms at an inn for a night, as Lady Camilla should be there the following day.

And gods know she isn't only paying for one room. Selena only tolerates Beruka because they have the same position. Other than that, she'd rather keep her distance. Part of the reason is Beruka is so emotionless… the rest is the fact that she was an assassin. Or, who knows, maybe she still is.

Either way, Selena holds a severe sore spot against assassins.

* * *

The two retainers arrive in the town near of the end of that same day, as Lady Camilla made doubly sure that rendezvous point was closer to  **them**. Selena would argue the fact that it should be closer to Lady Camilla, but both of them know that even sound logic won't deter her when it comes to her doting nature. Beruka, obviously, stays silent about it. Not that is what is on the forefront of her mind, after all. No, instead she ponders more on him.

It's no coincidence that he happened to be in the same place, that he just so happened to have a contract on that person's life…

A chance to start again, she can rest her axe and just be held. She wouldn't have to worry about working so hard. If she is so emotionless, then why does the thought stir feelings? Why does  **he**  make her feel that way? She's worked with other assassins and the like before, but  **he**  has something they don't. One more life, one last contract. It pays in gold that rivals the amount royals have.

But that's why she hesitates, the contract isn't asking for a target like King Garon or any of his most notable children, so why this person? One who seems so minor to the rest? What sort of history did they have with this target?

…

Why does she care so much? It isn't simply because Lady Camilla spared her own life, despite the contract she had for her. It isn't just the kindness and how Lady Camilla reached out for her, despite how cold Beruka is. There's something else at play. Something that interferes with her skills as an assassin.

But, it's just one life, one last contract. In exchange for a peaceful life…

No, that's just it. Beruka doubts that will be 'the last one'. For a person like her, there is no 'happy ending'. There are people out there who wants her head on a platter like any other accomplished assassin. The hard truth is that assassins don't live long. Not because they fail their missions, but because they are taken out by newer assassins. The longer an assassin lives, the more information they know, and they can know things that can disrupt even King Garon's plans if it were to get out.

Sometimes, someone hires an older assassin just to get the information out of them. They are usually nobles, who tempt them with 'quitting their line of work' for 'a peaceful end'. They might offer the most attractive of concubines, maybe a suite inside their mansion, anything to get that information handed to them.

"Hey, wake up, would you!" Selena nudges her, "Geez, you're usually not so contemplative." The once-assassin notices that they have arrived at their destination. "Come on." She scoffs as she dismounts and walks off, leaving Beruka alone in the stables with a horse. Closing her eyes and sighing, Beruka dismounts and goes to follow the red-hair retainer.

One life, one contract, and in return, a new start with a man that makes her feel.

* * *

Beruka is usually quiet, but this was a different kind of quiet. Selena keeps her distance as she walks up to an inn. Beruka is more blank, but her expression was more distant this time, as if she is deeply thinking something over. It unnerved Selena. She knows that something had to have happened in that town, but what? She only had one assumption, and perhaps it's due to her grudge against assassins.

She assumes that Beruka was contacted and given a contract.

But asking her won't yield her results, so she stays silent. Instead choosing to observe and see if there are any changes to her habits. So, after observing her for a while?

Nothing. Everything she does is still the same. Silence and doing an inspection of her weapons and armor. Scoffing, Selena heads to her room, though she keeps her armor on and her swords in arms' reach as she lies down. Leaving the blanket in its place, she curls up in the bed. She doesn't want to sleep, even if the pitiful amount of light coming from the sun is nearly gone, marking the time that people will close their eyes and drift off into slumber.

Minutes pass by in darkness as she simply stares ahead. She doesn't like this room, it's wood. She doesn't like being in wood-like interiors in this time of year, this was about when her father was assassinated. Unfortunately, fate can be cruel to her. One of the years when she was in similar conditions, she was unable to sleep. If she didn't dream of her father's dying breaths, it was of her mother's.

Sometimes she dreamt of her own, taken out in the same cowardly manner. What would it feel like? Death? According to Gregor, Cordelia simply bled out, he spoke nothing of cries of pain. Gregor barely had the chance to take another breath. In contrast, she has heard the screams of those who don't have the same quick death… and a number of those screams are courtesy of none other than her liege. Lady Camilla is ruthless on the battlefield. She's no doting mother, she's a terror. Her axe rips through limbs and armor alike, many of her victims cry out in agony before they lose enough blood lose their unconscious or if she makes another strike.

Beruka rarely does the same, she opts for the quick kills, and considering she specializes in riding a wyvern to fight, she's disturbingly skilled in slicing necks and cleaving skulls.

And here Selena stands, primarily using a sword. She does put some time into her archery every now and then, but that's really it. Her other skills have gotten rusty since her father's death. Selena shifts around in bed, feeling as restless as she usually is.

"Selena." A voice sounds out as someone knocks on the door, "Get up. We need to talk." Beruka?

"Ugh, hold on." Groaning, she rises and straps her sword back on, the other sword going on the other side of her waist. "What?" She spits out as she opens the door…

Beruka too, has her gear on. "Let's go." She takes a step away, "Well?" She sounds rather… bothered? "My wyvern has returned." Another moment passes by and it 'clicks'.

"And Lady Camilla?" She asks as she increases her pace to catch up with Beruka.

Beruka flashes a folded piece of paper, "From Princess Camilla." She starts.

"And?"

"Not out here." Beruka stops and turns towards Selena, a serious look in her eyes. "Yes, she's alive." Beruka resumes walking. Shrugging, Selena continues to follow her. The two keep walking, with Beruka's wyvern joining up as they leave the inn. "Further." She simply states as she keeps walking.

"Can I at least read the letter?" By this point, Beruka has stopped and looks around. They are a bit out of the town and near a forest.

"She's left Nohr." Beruka supplies, "Heavily injured, she fought Gunter and had both Lord Corrin and Lady Elise go to Hoshido, she's going to catch up to them."

"Wh-what?! Let me see that!" Selena thrusts her hand out and the other retainer ends up giving it to her. "'My darling retainers'…" Oh, of course she would start it off like that. "'I'm sending back your precious wyvern, Beruka. A number of groundbreaking events has happened, and I'm leaving Nohr behind. Gunter lies dead by my hand and I'm going into Hoshido to find my dear, sweet Corrin and Elise. Of course, this will brand me with High Treason. As for you two? Officially, you're relieved of your positions… but, it would warm my heart if you both came. With all of my love and affection; Camilla.'"

Selena looks back at Beruka who nods. She then looks away, uncertainty lining her eyes, "Lady Camilla saved my life, I've no choice but to stay by her side, retainer or not. What of you?"

What should she do? Without being Lady Camilla's retainer, Selena has lost what little she had to get close to Xander, and in turn Laslow. Would she start traveling again? No, the only real viable option is to return to her. "I should…" She stops as Beruka pulls out another sheet of paper.

"Stay behind." Her expression becomes… more blank. No, Selena recognizes it as the same one she has when she fights.

"What the hell, Beruka!" Beruka draws her axe and Selena does her sword. "I was going to say that I'm returning to Lady Camilla as well." A pause, "What, were you worried that she favored me?"

"Fight me, Selena." Her wyvern screeches, "To the death."

"What has gotten into you!? Retainer or not, do you realize how she'll react if only one returns with the others blood on their weapon?" Selena snarls, "So, screw that. I'd rather just beat some sense into you."

Beruka's stance hasn't relaxed, and she still looks ready to fight. "I'd figured you would be more eager to kill me."

"Is there some sort of magical control going on here? Gods, Beruka."

A pause, Beruka sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, "High-grade Nohrian steel. Custom made, lighter and slightly shorter than most blades. Enchanted for sharpness and durability. The hilt has dagger designs around it." She opens her eyes once more, "The blood of someone dear to you once stained it."

A second passes, then two. "Wait, you…" Selena finally speaks, drawing the other sword out, then looks it over. " **You**!?"

"Your name wasn't on the contract then, Selena." Beruka indirectly confirms.

"You killed my father!" She growls.

"And if you don't give it your all, you'll be joining him." Beruka points her axe towards Selena. "And you'll be the last one I ever do again." With that, she flings the paper her way.

Keeping her eyes locked on the crazed Beruka, Selena picks it up. "Me?" She looks it over, "Why me? Is there just some rich bastard who does this for fun?! Why am I worth billions!?"

"It doesn't matter." Of course she would say that.

Even now, she's an assassin. "Why did you bother telling me? You could've just sneaked in and took me out." She readies her… no, Beruka's old sword. She sheathes her father's sword. To be honest, part of her doesn't want to kill Beruka, as she's still the woman that has fought with her for so long. Even though she won't openly admit it, a number of times Beruka saved her with her cold, calm mind. Beruka always had to sneak around and take targets out, which leads to a more strategic mind. Selena rarely fought more than bandits, or on the occasion Faceless, enemies that fall to brute strength.

"This is different." She takes her stance, "No." She glares at her own wyvern, "Stay out of this." Her dead eyes meet Selena's again, "I want to fight you on even grounds, Selena. Regardless of how this ends, I'm lying my axe down after this." Even grounds? Not only is Beruka keeping her wyvern out of this, she is also fighting Selena head-on with a weapon disadvantage… how is this 'even'? A few drops of sweat drip down Selena. Beruka isn't the cocky type, if she actually thinks that in this specific situation they are equal, then she's probably correct.

...Or maybe it's a mind game? She internally agrees, Beruka is trying to demoralize her. "I won't let you kill me, Beruka. I swore to my father that I'd kill the assassin responsible for taking his… even if that assassin is you." Scowling, Selena finally takes her stance, trained eyes keeping tabs on Beruka's slightest movements. Though, even with her tight-fitting clothing, she keeps her body almost stone-like still.

Beruka brings her face-cloth up, covering the lower part of her face up to her nose… it occurred to Selena that if she also tucked her hair away, then she would, in fact, look just like her father's killer.

That is, if she's remembering it right.

A glint shines in her eyes as Beruka makes the first move, going to strike her… pauldron? Selena steps back as she can feel the wind being sliced in front of her, though Beruka's axe barely skimmed by a half-second before she followed up, bringing it even closer while striking backwards, making full use of the double-bladed weapon. Selena sidesteps this one and returns the favor with a slash to her side. Then, of all possible reactions, Beruka beings her arm down and lets the sword hit her wrist…

The clash of metal soon follows. Since when did Beruka have reinforced wrist guards? How many other spots would have the same protection? Selena recoils as Beruka takes that hesitation and slams her on the head with her hilt, "Focus, Selena." Beruka could've ended her right there!

"I don't need your pity." She spits back as she instead turns at an incredible speed, already moving to strike her other side. Beruka moved her axe-head to block, but Selena stops that attack and instead delivers a powerful kick to her chest. As she should have guessed, Selena felt metal, but that metal didn't stop all of that force, and Beruka coughed up some air. Taking that window, Selena decides to aim for a spot that can't afford to be protected as much…

No, not the neck, Selena wouldn't be able to close enough distance. Instead she cuts into Beruka's elbow. No clash of metal and the sword cuts into her bone, not enough to slice through, but any injury on her end is a plus. She'll just have to wear her down, minor injuries now, she'll get a major one in later. Beruka recovered and retaliates with her pommel once more, hitting a similar spot on Selena. Beruka struck with far more force… or maybe she just hit a weaker part of Selena's chest-guard. Now in the similar position, Selena staggers back.

And again, despite having a prime opportunity, Beruka instead bashes Selena's head again, causing the red-hair's vision to swim, alongside her lack of breath. As if events repeat themselves, Selena found herself on the ground, falling to her rear. Beruka narrows her eyes, then finally decides to cleave into her neck, as if tired of the fight.

But she refuses to fall.

Selena raises her pauldron, her shoulder screams in protest, but she holds her ground. Grabbing a hold of her axe's shaft, Selena yanks, causing the assassin to stumble forward. Twisting her grip, she also forces Beruka's wrist at an awkward angle, but Beruka loosened her own grasp on her axe before Selena ended up snapping the bone. Of course, this meant Beruka just lost her axe, but Selena refused to get cocky.

Beruka is sure to have more weapons on her.

That internally assumption came true as Beruka used her other hand to claw into Selena's face… it felt like the fingertips of her gauntlets had tiny blades on them! Hissing in pain, Selena manages to kick Beruka back after letting go of her axe. "Damn…" Selena could feel the warm life-liquid pour from those cuts. "That freakin' hurt!" How far did Beruka cut into her?! As expected, Beruka also unsheathed a sword, it looked just like the one she used to kill Gregor. Tightening the grip on her own sword, Selena rose. As if giving her the time to get her focus together, Beruka held off.

...She wasn't playing some sort of mind game with the assumption that they are on equal grounds. Beruka has more skill on one-on-one fights than Selena expected.

She could very well die here.

Yet, the biggest thought on her mind on that matter is: What the hell would her father think of this? If there is some sort of afterlife, how would he feel to see her die by the same hands as him?

What would her mother think? That she failed to avenge her father?

Was mother even the vengeful type? She wishes she had more time to ask about Cordelia.

"Are you done?" Beruka asked. "I'm not going to keep giving you breathers if you're going to wait over a minute with each one."

Is Beruka looking to wear her down first? Despite being able to kill her? "You have that damn contract, why do you keep giving me time!?"

She closes her eyes for a moment, "...This is different." She repeats her earlier words, though when she opens them, Selena can actually see the conflict in them. What's holding her back? "I want to feel you first-hand. You're a powerful fighter, it was a true experience to be by your side."

"Oh, so you do care!"

"...Enough." Beruka attempts to divert the conversation as she charges in, seeming to change her approach on the fly. Selena barely had the time to deflect that blow.

"Is that gold really worth it, then?" Selena continues as the swords clash. "You said that you'd follow Lady Camilla because she saved your life… so what if someone paid you twice what's on me for her? Three times?!" Beruka faltered as Selena made her second connecting slice, this time on her upper arm… no armor there it seems. "What's the other factor here? It isn't just the gold, is it?"

"It doesn't concern you, Selena." She finally replies, that mask of calm covering her once more.

"Of course it does! You're a skilled fighter too, but there's something holding  **you**  back! Did you not just say you wanted us to be on 'equal grounds'?"

"Tch." Selena has seemed to hit a sore spot, as Beruka simply held her ground at their latest sword lock. "..." Then she tries to put that facade of calm on her… And Selena gasps as she feels something bite deeply in her side. Beruka had weaved her other hand around and sliced with those dagger-like ends of her gauntlet. "We're finished, Selena." Beruka coldly states as she looks to cleave into her. Staggered by the sudden pain and loss of blood, Selena attempted to bring that sword back up, even if she knew she wouldn't cover the distance in time…

So, instead she let natural laws take its course and forced herself to slip and fall. As ungraceful as it was, it prevented her neck from being sliced open. Beruka's eyes glinted with surprise, clearly not expecting such a 'accident' from a skilled fighter. With that small window, Selena sweeps a leg under Beruka's legs, forcing her in the same position. Caught off-guard by the strange tactic, Selena grabs one of Beruka's legs with her free hand, pulling her towards her with her powerful muscles. Despite the protests they had, Selena manages to drag Beruka her way, sliding her across the ground.

Keeping the weird strategy flowing, Selena brought her pommel to Beruka's… wrist. She actually felt the metal dent from the force of her blow. Beruka visibly recoiled as Selena managed to grab the very end of her sword's pommel, which is less than a full hand's worth, but she makes do. Repeating the earlier tactic, Selena twists it, but due to her recent recoil, was unable to react fast enough to let go… A sickening cracking sound followed. Beruka gasps in pain, but otherwise stays as silent as normal.

"So, what the hell is driving you!?" Selena spits as she pins the woman down. "You could have gave me a dozen deaths already, what's with  **you**? You're never without certainty, but I can see your hesitation."

As if copying Selena's sudden change to a strange tactic, Beruka responds with a simple head-on bash with her own head. It was enough to cause both of them to recoil, but it loosened her grip enough for Beruka to push her off. Hearing yet another shing of metal, Beruka rolls over and lashes out with a dagger. Considering how simple it looks, it must be her self-defense dagger…

Which means she's on her last weapon.

Feeling a small sense of relief, Selena barely manages to dodge the incoming strike, as fast as it was. At least, she thought she dodged it, until she felt more blood, this time from the tip of her nose…

It didn't sting as bad as when she clawed into her cheek.

Beruka quickly pushes herself up and Selena finds the time to do the same. Tick, tick, a few second pass by without movement from either side. Selena is breathing heavily while Beruka offers the same labored breathing. Selena may be bleeding more, but Beruka suffers more damage to her bones than her skin. Still, they both stand, each refusing to fall for such 'minor' injuries. Selena notices that Beruka's eyes flick towards each of her forcefully-removed weapons, before their eyes meet again. "Let's finish this." Is all Beruka said as she charged once more…

But immediately steps back before she actually reaches Selena. Not expecting the feint, Selena had brought up her guard… then hissed as the dagger found its way into one of her thighs. Beruka had sent the dagger flying and she shot herself forward and grabbed her discarded sword. Selena felt the sting of metal as she backed up… another cut.

She can't fall to here. Not to her!

Beruka moved in for the kill, looking to run Selena through, but another shing of metal sounds out as Selena is now dual-wielding, blocking the strike with her father's broader sword. Selena's breathing has gotten heavier, and now she has a few spots in her vision. Despite all of her training, Selena never really did as much on dual-wielding, as it always has been a weapon and her pauldron… sometimes a shield she grips.

Her father always promoted more defense than offense. He is probably as skilled as she is for dual-wielding.

Regardless, Beruka didn't seem as surprised by this particular move, and she attempts to weave around for another slice, going for the opposite side of her pauldron. As worn out as she's getting, Selena could only nudge her body a bit out of the way, turning the slice into a glancing blow. But a cut is still a cut, and she hissed in pain. Less blood, blurrier vision, slower reactions.

Selena starts to fear she'll end up losing her life to Beruka. She refuses to lose her composure too, though. She can still pull through this!

Managing to avoid the third neck slice, Selena weakly kicks Beruka's shins, causing her legs to buckle and she stumbles, nearly falling all-together. Selena coughs up some blood as she slices into Beruka's sword arm… no metal contact as she cuts into her wrist.

With an open wound on the inside of her wrist, Beruka drops the sword out of sheer pain. Taking that opportunity, Selena pushes herself up once more and brings a double-pommel strike to Beruka's head, causing a heavy enough concussion to force her to fall. With the window of opportunity finally large enough, Selena thrusts Beruka's old assassination sword, the one that killed her father, down towards her chest, looking to kill her in a similar fashion as Beruka did Gregor…

But stopped.

Selena felt her hairs stand on end. She abruptly side-stepped as another blade swishes through the air. Selena just managed to avoid having her head cleaved open.

A man, similarly clothed to Beruka stands there, his sword is even an almost identical match… and maybe it is, but Selena's vision is too distorted to make out the details. "Close enough, Beruka." He comments, "But she's worn down enough, I'll be sure to keep my end of the deal." He smiles at Selena, "You're really good, managing to get my sweet Beruka that injured."

Ah, and there it is. "I knew there was more than gold involved." Selena heaves a breath… a portion of blood falling with it. Her vision has since further blackened, but adrenaline keeps her up.

She's very well aware she can't handle another person… a common bandit could probably take her out right now. And that, is a shameful thought. How low Selena must have fallen if she thinks she can die to some inexperienced and ill-equipped bastard. Still, she keeps her swords high and her stance solid.

She won't go down without a fight. "Oh, it seems you have will in you. It doesn't matter to me." With that, he moves in for the kill, looking to immediately cleave into her neck. Anticipating that move, Selena brings her father's sword up, blocking it. Then gasped as she felt a chunk of metal enter her lower chest. The dagger was removed in the next moment, and Selena coughed up another helping of blood as she fell down. "I was truly hoping my little angel of death would have killed you, but I can fill in for her." He brings the sword down, looking to thrust through Selena's heart.

And she felt a small wave of blood splash on her. "How… convenient." Beruka?! The man hisses as a sword makes it way through his chest, in a similar fashion to how Gregor died. "You are… an elusive one."

"B-Beruka?" Beruka seemed to have missed a few major points. "I… We were…"

"Just another name on a contract." The sword is pulled back and the man falls. Thankfully, his sword misses Selena, even if he still lands on her. Too weakened to actually push him off, Beruka removes the corpse off of her. "Get up." Beruka offers her hand.

"Wh-what?" Selena simply lied there, too spent to even do that.

Beruka sighs and closes her eyes, then calls for her wyvern. "Here." She rummages through a pouch and takes out a healing tonic. "Drink." Selena nods as Beruka had to actually push the bottle her way. "Rest, we can talk later."

* * *

Beruka sat to the side of a bed, bandages lining her body. She had only changed her own bandages twice, the rest went to Selena. Her tonics are also all gone. Still, despite it all, a satisfied smile graces her face. Beruka pulls out the contract from the bag she kept on her wyvern. This one did not hold Selena's face, no… but the man she just killed. As she has come to learn, the older assassins are usually targeted due to information they could know, and he was no different.

She truly didn't know why he wanted to woo her, was it really love? No, it didn't matter. He was a name on a contract.

Her last contract.

Selena stirred from her weakened state. "B-Beruka?" She groaned.

"Out of tonics." She quickly informed her, "And if we need more bandages, I'm going to have to cut our clothing."

"Wh…" Selena coughed. "Why?"

"Did I spare you?" Beruka guessed, "You're right, it's more than just gold, Selena." Beruka looked at the contract over, "He wasn't worth as much, but…" A moment passes in silence.

"Well?"

"I trust you." The frank answer is enough to stun Selena, "Yes, he could have provided me with a life, but I know better than to settle down with an assassin."

"And what about you?"

"If you should trust me?" Selena weakly nodded, "Lady Camilla may have saved my life, but you've shown me the importance of relying on someone. I… actually hope you could trust me as I trust you. It would mean a lot."

"Even though you almost  **killed**  me?!" Selena immediately regretted that as she started coughing rather violently. "How do I know you won't finish off that contract?" Her voice became much quieter.

"I told you. That was my last contract." She informs her, "Whether or not you believe me is of your own choice." She stands up, "Besides. Don't you have something to finish off?" Out of all the things she could have done, Beruka offers her a bloodstained sword, the same one Selena held not too long ago. "I'll let you decide the sincerity of my promise." Once more, she catches Selena off-guard and removes her chest armor, exposing her bare chest.

Perhaps it's due to her lack of energy or the turn of events, but it ultimately doesn't bother Selena that… well, everything is showing. In short, Beruka doesn't need a bra.

"Beruka?" Selena asks as she slowly sits up, with the other crouched down, enough to where all Selena has to do is thrust.

"I'm going to become a liability later on. Assassins have shorter lifespans, not because of failure, but because they are on the receiving end of a contract." Beruka repeats the facts known to her, "You saw as much, he knew a lot. I know he knows a lot. Due to his previous attempts to get with me, it was known I could get in close. I had since received a contract to kill him. But, due to my insistence on rejecting him, it would have been suspicious to contact him… so I waited. Since then, I became Lady Camilla's retainer, as have you. I kept silent, even as I recognized you."

"So, now what? If…" Selena gasps as a sudden pain hits her.

"My wyvern will head off on its own if I die, and with your current injuries, you could easily lie and say that you failed to save me in a fight." Her facade is actually starting to crack. There is a tinge of sadness. "But, if I'm to die, I'd rather it be by your hand. I have no regrets on what I've done, and I can understand your need for vengeance, so… here I am." For emphasis, she sticks her chest out.

"You killed my father." She states the obvious.

"I did." Beruka stays still.

"An assassin also took my mother away from me." She continues, "I swore to my father's grave that I'd kill the person responsible. I would use this person as a scapegoat. I would avenge my father and my mother."

"Then do it." The crack in her calm demeanor is still there.

Selena hisses as she gets out of the bed, her muscles screaming in protest. Beruka remains still, "Stand up." Selena orders her. Beruka silently complies, and she stands… still roughly the same size as Selena, if it weren't for her smaller breasts. Raising the sword high, she brings it down what weary strength she has left. Yet, as weakened as she is, and due to her target accepting whatever comes, the sword bites deep. Deeper and deeper it travels, until the hilt makes contact.

Then Selena slaps Beruka.

"Put your damn armor back on." Selena spits out, placing a foot on the pommel of the sword that has been thrusted into the ground. "How are you not embarrassed? You're flatter than a plank of wood."

"I… don't understand." Beruka states, her cheek red from the recent slap, "I know how much you want to take my life. Do you truly think yourself so silent?! I heard your whimpers in the night, how you speak when you sharpen the blade I used, how…" Another slap echoes out, this time on her other cheek.

"Are you done?" Selena shoves Beruka's armor her way, "Now, let's hurry up and recover so we can get back to Lady Camilla."

"I'll be a liability, Selena. The longer I live, the more contracts that will have my name on it." She stubbornly states.

"Easy solution: They'll have to fight me, too." She narrows her eyes, "Seriously, put your armor on! I can see you aren't sporting anything, but could you put something on!? Even if it's a cloth wrap, do something to cover your breasts!"

Beruka looks at Selena, the impaled sword in the ground, then her armor. "You're willing to fight off others that have taken a contract on my life?" She clarifies.

"Oh, don't make me say it so directly." A pause, "Fine! Fine! I'm going to say this  **once**. I care about your well-being, Beruka. Even if you are an assassin, I like you as a person. You're reliable in a fight." Her face flushes with embarrassment, "Do you get it now?" Selena shoves the armor at Beruka, before just letting go of it.

And Beruka catches it before it falls. "Very well." She concedes, as she puts it back on. "Let's take a day to recover, and we'll head out." She looks at Selena, who is both lying down and facing away from her. Beruka, for once, smiles. A strange tightness fills her chest as she walks away, going to the other bed. For a moment when she lies down, she looks right at Selena's back, her breathing has already turned gentle as her body slowly rises and falls. Fair enough, she almost bled out, after all. Beruka succumbs to her own exhaustion soon after…

That smile never did leave her face as she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh... Oh I really liked typing up that fight. I'm talking liking it better than anything I've done before...
> 
> And be honest, who was expecting Beruka or Selena to die?
> 
> Oh, and... instant A+ rank, I suppose?


	5. For the Orphans!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on this chapter, I will be going into the lives of the children in the Krakenburg Orphanage. I realize that sections in here will contradict what might be in the main fic, but I'm considering this 'canon'. I simply didn't think of this when I initially brought in the Orphanage, however... Temporal King suggested that some of the 2nd Gen units should be in the Orphanage, so... yeah.
> 
> Also, Libra runs it, because why not? It fits with his Awakening ending, anyway.

The King of Nohr had been anything but sympathetic to those who live a domestic life. If your trade skill didn't involve something that would directly support his army, then you might very well starve. Many people end up resorting to thievery just to survive. Humans pile on each other, one is just as desperate to survive as the next.

Blacksmiths and War Animal trainers are usually packed with apprentices. It's fact that many of them work, not because they actually care for the King's armaments, but because they have mouths to feed…

But most usually only have a total of three or four stomachs to fill. One man has about a half dozen. This man's name is Libra. And the reason why there's so many?

He alone runs the Krakenburg Orphanage.

Libra works harder than most, which is a feat in itself, considering he wields no hammer or sword. His weapons include a coin pouch that hasn't ever been half-full, a patience that would be considered godly, and a knack of calming the diverse kinds of children and teenagers under his caring gaze.

Short, tall, lazy, energetic, shy, talkative… he has them all. All joined by a core attribute, they are, for one reason or another, without parents. Some have passed away, some simply couldn't afford the extra expenses. Besides, who wants to point at a child that shrinks away from even the simplest of greetings and say that is their child?

Libra doesn't care, he still took Ignatius in.

What parent would be proud of a girl who speaks with a distinguished flair, but sounds like nothing a noble would say?

He still doesn't care, he cared for Ophelia as if she were his own.

Time and time again he took more in, unwilling to leave these precious souls on the cruel streets. And after he found out that the gold he was pay wasn't enough to support them all? He used what he had saved over his life.

He even sold his house.

All of this and more went into these children. He knows each and every one by name. He knows they quirks, their inspirations and fears.

Ignatius, Ophelia, Soleil, Forrest, Siegbert, Dwyer. Libra oversees their everything. He even bought books so that he could understand the women's' needs better.

He wishes he could keep their stomachs filled, though. And finer clothes, shampoo and conditioner, soap…

But, to provide that would mean exhausting what gold he has left. So, clothes are usually handmade from scraps…. Handmade by Forrest, that is. The young boy has a natural talent with needlework. He's a kind one, too, as he voluntarily does any tailoring.

Unfortunately, there's no source of the aforementioned shampoo, so everyone's hair is kept short. Even such a seemingly insignificant activity pains Libra. Ophelia, Soleil, and Forrest's hairs all have a particular shine to them, something he'd be sure would turn out radiant if they could actually grow it out. Siegbert and Ignatius's hair are relatively tame…

Then there's Dwyer's hair. If Libra didn't know any better, he'd say the man's hair constantly attracts electricity, as it refuses to be brushed down, but then again he does also not do much more than sleep. Sleep…

Everything isn't always nice and flowery with his orphans. Though, after they understood how much he is pushing himself to keep them content, they returned the same kindness.

That still didn't stop any nightmares from coming in.

And just like each of their unique traits that he associates them with their daily lives, each of them has their own reactions to their nightmares.

Ignatius, despite his relatively larger frame, whimpers and cries silent tears. Ophelia reacts not physically, but magically, as she has an innate connection to magic. In fact, he first found out she had potential during her first nightmare in his orphanage. Soleil will more-or-less have a vice grip on whatever is near her. Forrest has made himself a small stuffed animal that he holds close to his chest. Siegbert goes from a nervous talker to outright silent. Dwyer… actually doesn't change at all.

However, all of Libra's 'normal' routines would end up changing. It would start from a total of two new orphans, and a visit from someone incredibly important…

* * *

Libra, as per usual, is sitting at his desk. There are few things he doesn't do at his desk. Injuries? He has first-aid kits. Management? He has documents, each in their own section. It's about the time that he has to go and get more supplies, so he is running through a list off all the things that the orphans will need. Food and water are the obvious contenders, though he's going to need to repair that small hole in the roof, lest it rains and ruins what little they have. He's going to have to get more threads, too, as some of the clothes are getting torn from overuse…

Ophelia, being the oldest of the women, is also going to need some feminine supplies.

Which means more expenses, something that is becoming an increasing problem. But, he refuses to neglect any need. Sighing, he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out his personal gold pouch. His pay will only cover roughly three-fourths of it, the rest is coming from his own gold. At least he has enough to cover it all…

This month, anyway.

As he gets up, however, the door slams open, closes, and a young girl stands on the inside, back against the door and breathing heavily. She seems to have some amount of food on her person, but considering the way she's almost frantically keeping an ear in the door. A thief? This young? "Miss?" He calls out, causing the girl to nearly jump out of her skin.

Her hair is long and frayed, it's done in a poorly kept pair of braided pigtails. Her clothes aren't much better, tattered and torn in various places, leaving her exposed in almost all the wrong places. She has accumulated a number of scratches and scars on her. However, in opposition to his worried look, she glares. "Not a word." She spits with a venom that has no right coming from someone as young as her.

"Do you need…?" Siegburt took a careful step forward, only to halt at the sound of a metallic shing.

...She actually has a weapon on her. "Quiet." With her ear back on the door, she grabs a slice of bread from her pouch. The bread is deformed from its container and Libra could even swear it's molded.

That wouldn't be a surprise. Since when did Krakenburg have a decent supply of fresh food? The thief then squeaks as the door is not just opened, but torn off its hinges by someone else, causing her to be sent forward.

Guards. Wordlessly, they step in and close in on her. One grabs her by the arms and the other by her braided pigtails. "What seems to be the problem, guards?" Libra asks calmly.

"Pardon us," He didn't sound a bit apologetic, "We'll have her out of here right now."

The little girl flashes Libra a horrified look. Long-term thief? Did she finally get caught? The other orphans' eyes were also on Libra, if they weren't bothered by the scene happening before them, then they were sorrowful fo what's happening to her. "I'm assuming you are going to imprison her?"

"You care for this runt?" The other guard grunted out. "She's nothing more than a vile thief, content with…"

"I do, actually." Libra gently interrupts the man. A stunned silence follows, "And as the owner of the Krakenburg Orphanage, I would very much like to have this poor girl as part of my family here."

The girl's mouth is left agape, while the guards share a wary look. "If we catch her stealing one more time…" They both shove her towards Libra, "One chance. But only because you're willing to take this trash in." With that, the two leave.

"Miss?" Libra's gaze turns gentle as he looks at the girl, who is dazed from the turn of events. "My name is Libra, and I run the Krakenburg Orphanage." He extends a hand towards her, "Might I know your name?"

She looks at him, his hand, the bread that has fallen the floor, and back to him, "What do you want from me?" She shrinks back and snatches the bread off of the ground.

"To take care of you, as I do the others here."

"Bullshit." Not expecting the sudden harsh language, Libra recoils. "Nobody 'just helps' people."

"He's… not lying, ma'am." Siegbert speaks up, "He took us all in, and he does what he… can to help."

"My parents left me out on the streets, but he took me in." Ignatius, for once, gets a proper sentence out.

"Father said I looked 'too feminine', and he kicked me out." Forrest adds.

"Yeah, sure. And what does he make you do?" Her venom has been dialed back some, but she's still on the defensive.

"Keep living and look forward to the next day." Soleil weakly smiles.

"Well… nothing, really." Dwyer mumbles from his position, "As long as we don't make a mess, it's all good."

"I help him by my own choice, but he forces nothing on us." It's Forrest again.

The girl looked at Libra, her expression still wary. She then looked at his hand, which is still outstretched. "Aren't you gonna mention it?" She finally asks.

"Mention what?" He looks genuinely confused.

"How that if I say 'no', you'll just throw me to the guards?"

"As in threaten you?" Libra looks offended, "Why? I've seen enough pain. I'm trying to do what I can to make children's lives better."

"Oh yeah? And what about all the other children scrounging around and stabbing each other?" What has she seen and done to give her such a spiteful outlook?

"I'm still only human. I can only do so much on my own."

"Alright, fine." She seems to concede, "But if I even get the notion that you're backing out on your word…" She steps away from his hand and bites into the bread.

"What is your name, by the way?"

"Nina." She is going to be a handful.

* * *

Going over his edited shopping list, to account for the new girl, he tallies what gold he should have left. Nina is younger than she actually acts, perhaps even younger than little Soleil. And to think she already has seen and understood the concept of murder and death. Libra shivers.

Nina has taken to isolating herself from the rest. She stands in a corner, overlooking the area, as if she's on the lookout.

Taking one more look over the list, he nods to himself, "I'm heading out to shop, I'll return within the hour." A quick number of 'enjoy yourself' and 'be safe' follows, except from Nina. Understandable, she just needs time.

"And that's it?" Nina asked after the man left.

"What do you mean?" Forrest replied as he resumed mending some tears in his clothes.

"Y'all sit around all day, he goes shopping, then what?"

"Well, sometimes he borrows a book from a kind soul, which he reads to us." Ophelia smiles, "I like the ones where there is a chosen hero sent out to destroy a vile menace." By now, she is standing completely straight, one arm raised to the sky and the other stretched forward, "And the stars have deemed you unworthy of the breath you breathe. I will vanquish what…"

"Nina, duck." Soleil calmly states.

"Huh?" She is understandably confused.

"... And thus I use my special technique, Cosmic Blast!" A powerful gust of wind is shot out, nailing the clueless Nina on her chest, causing her to both get knocked down and slide back several feet.

"You've improved, Ophelia." Siegbert compliments as he tried to help Nina up. She quickly refused the offer.

"The walls aren't dented, so that's a plus." Soleil nods.

"Be thankful it was a Wind spell this time." Forrest finishes his needle work.

"How are you all not worried by that?!" Nina exclaims. "And what do you mean, 'this time'? Does she burn down houses? Electrocute people to death?"

"I would never!" She immediately becomes defensive, "That would be a degradation on the very concept of a Chosen One!"

Nina narrowed her eyes, "So, you did hurt someone before?" Ophelia visibly recoils and she breaks eye contact, then Nina notices some small glints forming near her eyes.

"Ophelia…" Forrest frowns.

"Would you care for some tea?" Soleil offers.

"That would be… kind of you. S-Soleil." Ophelia is now shaking and has turned away.

"Let me make it." Dwyer slowly rises, "No one brews it better."

"Hey, Ophelia." Ignatius walks over, "How about a hug?" The next second, she buried herself in his larger body, freely sobbing.

"We've all experienced a lot, Nina." Siegbert looks at the newest orphan, a sudden protectiveness in his eyes, "We're no strangers to grief, but we choose to comfort each other. Sir Libra has an admirable goal and a righteous mindset to go with it. We might not be able to do much, but we do what we can to ease his burden."

Nina returns her gaze to the now calm Ophelia, who is next to Ignatius, a cup of… boiled water in her hands. "What kind of 'tea' is that?"

"One shred of a single leaf," Dwyer supplies, "Boiled in water. If we have some, I'd also sprinkle some spices in it."

"Dwyer knows exactly how much of a leaf to use for the taste to be there. Since he's taken to making tea, Mister Libra can go three or four extra shopping trips before buying more." Forrest says.

"And since Forrest started sewing, Libra doesn't buy as much thread, because Forrest knows how to scavenge used cloth." Ignatius adds.

"Yeah, we all help in our own little ways!" Soleil openly smiles.

"Every little bit counts." Siegbert nods.

"I see." Nina concedes.

* * *

With a bag full of groceries, Libra wearily drags his tired legs across the concrete pavement. He sincerely hopes Nina is at least getting along with the others. The most issues he ever has now are the times that Ophelia's magic spirals out of her control.

She **needs**  a proper tutor.

Caught in his thoughts, he failed to step over a sudden rise on the ground, causing him to fall. "By His… shadow." He gaps as he gets up. Yet, by the time he picked himself up, some of the truly desperate had already gotten to the food. What could he do? Asserting force won't end well. According to the 'law', he 'lost' it the moment it hits the ground.

"Are you well, dear?" He heard as he dusted himself off… what precious food he had is lost. He looks towards the source of the voice and… "Do you need some help?" Intricately designed armor, she stands over him, if only by a bit. Long purple hair covers her, leaving only half a face to show off.

He looks at his bags, without the food, there only lies some thread and Ophelia's… things. "I appreciate the offer, but it's not like there's much to carry now." He stoops down and picks it up. "I'll just have to make a second trip for the food."

"Yes, I saw the lost food, darling." She coos, "That was quite a bit too carry for a single man." She takes a step closer, her figure radiating a sort of power. "And feminine products? Your wife?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. The oldest of orphans I'm raising has reached that age, and…" He pauses as a sudden glint overcomes her visible eye.

"O-Orphans? As in… children?!" She suddenly seems so excited. "Can I see them?"

"Of course, but know that I'm financially unable to give them everything they need."

"But you try?"

"...I gave up so much for them. My savings, my house, everything." That answer seems to have more than satisfied this powerful woman…

He does worry on how they'll react to that massive battle axe.

* * *

The orphans are currently scattered about the house. Forrest is mending Ophelia's shirt, but she understandably wouldn't walk around without one, so Forrest let her wear his, since they are roughly the same size…

Not counting her developing breasts.

Ignatius and Siegbert are silently talking to each other, most likely to help each other's nervousness.

Soleil is simply sitting, whilst staring skyward.

Dwyer sleeps.

Nina constantly glances outside, deciding if this is really worth it. Forrest had offered to mend her clothes, but she doesn't exactly trust him. Besides, what's the point in mending it? It isn't going to make it any less damn cold!

"I've returned." Libra sounds off… with a single bag in his arms. "With company, as well." And in walks a rather well-endowed woman. Libra continues to walk until he reaches his desk, to which he places the bag gently down. "Now then. Ignatius, Ophelia, Siegbert, Forrest, Soleil, Dwyer, and Nina. This is Camilla."

Dwyer raises his head for a moment, but otherwise stays silent. Soleil offers her best smile. Ignatius is looking less at the woman and more at the weapon attached to her back. Siegbert is doing the roughly same as Ignatius. Forrest looks up from his mending session and gives her a gentle smile. Ophelia tilts her head, her eyes shining. Nina does nothing to hide her glare.

"Oh, my…" The woman, called Camilla, starts. "You… are all so…  **adorable**!" She breaks out into a full smile, happiness coming from every part of her being. Her visible eye scans all of them, and she remains in a sort of trance, unsure of which one to start doting on first.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she hit her head." Nina scoffs.

"The stars deem her important, Nina. We should treat her with proper respect." Ophelia walks up first, "Greetings miss Camilla. My name is Ophelia Dusk." Her response? A hug. Camilla rounded up the woman in a huge hug, and Ophelia could literally feel the affection pouring out of her.

"With all due respect, Miss Camilla." It's Siegbert, "I'm off-put by your weapon."

"I… agree." Ignatius adds.

"Hm?" She hums as she finishes planting a multitude of kisses on Ophelia's forehead and cheeks, "Oh, my apologies. I live a busy life." Her expression darkened at that. "I'm afraid I rarely get time for proper rest."

"Your armor is well-made, Miss Camilla." Forrest speaks up, "Are you one of the higher-ranked fighters?"

"Why, thank you… Forrest?" She finally lets Ophelia go, who is blushing quite heavily. Oh, the things she heard from Camilla would make any woman or man melt. Ophelia never knew doting could be so… intense. "See, there's…"

"Lady Camilla." A dead voice rings out from the door. A screech follows soon afterwards as a small-framed light-blue hair woman walks in. "For your safety, I suggest against any unannounced leaves."

"Gods, do you know how…" Another woman enters, this one with fiery-red hair, twin pigtails going as far as her legs. "The things that could have happened." She abruptly changes her statement.

"Oh, don't be so…" Camilla starts, before her eyes light up. "Everyone, these are my darling retainers. She's Beruka, and the other is Selena."

A pause, "W-wait, retainers?" Libra finally catches up, "And L-Lady Camilla? As in Princess Camilla?!"

"Oh… I must have forgotten to mention that when you brought up that you had a handful of sweet children here." She smiles, "But yes, I am Princess Camilla." Libra's next reaction was to kneel and apologize for any disrespect, but Camilla chuckled and 'tutted' him. "Oh no, don't start that up. Especially with these bundles of cuteness here!"

"Lady Camilla…" Beruka starts.

"Oh, don't be like that." She glances over her shoulder, "Selena? Be a dear and get the list for me. I'd like a few extra minutes with these huggable children."

"Of course, Lady Camilla." With that Selena departs.

Unfortunately, Ophelia is still the only one who closed the gap and while Camilla held herself together well, Libra noticed that it hurts her. She really does love children. But, that should have been the least of his worries. Because as precious as the scene of Ophelia warming up to Camilla was, this just  **had**  to be the time when she lost some control of her magic. Being so tied to her emotions, the young but developing woman accidently let out a blast of cold.

Beruka was in front of Camilla the next moment, axe in hand. "Lady Camilla!" The cold retainer didn't hesitate to raise her weapon against Ophelia, and maybe she would have cleaved into her, had Camilla not gripped her by the wrist.

"No." Camilla's expression turned dark.

"She's a…"

"Beruka." The doting woman was replaced by something far more dangerous. "Wait outside."

Conflicted, Beruka relaxes her grip, but still stands stubborn, "What if that magic was any…"

"Outside. Now."

Closing her eyes and taking a breath, Beruka nods. "Of course. My apologies, Lady Camilla."

"Oh no, apologize to this darling woman, not me."

Relaxing the rest of her body, Beruka levels a look at Ophelia, who shrinks back in fear. "My sincerest apologies, Ophelia." All she could do in response was to nod. With that, Beruka also takes her leave.

"I wish I had informed you beforehand, Princess Camilla." Libra admits, "But, I had hoped that wouldn't have arised." He closes the distance, "I'm afraid I lack many things for these children. I'm honestly clueless as to both a growing woman's needs and Ophelia's education as a magic user."

But, for some reason, that only causes her smile to return. "Lack of funds, I assume?" That glint in her eyes also makes a return, "Actually, I have an idea… hold tight for a few moments, okay?" She looks past Libra and over to Ophelia, "Dry your tears, darling. I'll be sure to give you another nice hug before I have to go, okay?" Without waiting for a proper response, she walks out. "Oh no, Beruka." He hears her say, "You will wait for Selena, so that she knows where I'm going."

"...Of course, Lady Camilla."

Libra looked over the orphans once more. With Ophelia the only one who has taken a liking to Princess Camilla, the rest are caught somewhere between fear and uncertainty. Still, none of this changes the fact that he needs to get more food. "Um, Libra?" Ophelia asks, "I feel weird…"

"One moment, Ophelia." But first, he needs to care for Ophelia, lest she end up releasing another wave of magic.

* * *

With Ophelia's… issue out of the way, Libra was counting over his gold one more time. While this wasn't the first time he lost groceries, it was still an understable significant loss when it did happen. He fears how much this will affect him this time, especially since there's another mouth to feed. "Pardon the wait, dears." And it was at this time that Princess Camilla returned. She had a very satisfied smile on her face. "Alright, do bring it in."

...Bring what in? That question died on his lips as both Selena and Beruka began hauling in massive pots. What did she buy? Both of her retainers are struggling rather intensely with whatever is inside. "Princess Camilla?" Libra finally asked.

"Oh, right! Utensils!" She suddenly exclaimed. Wait, utensils? Are these massive pots filled with… food? Camilla dashed back outside, before carrying a medium-sized container and two filled buckets of water. "And… there they are." Once placing the buckets down, she pulled out a pouch. "Libra, dear? I don't suppose you have a tea kettle?"

"Y-Yes, Princess Camilla!"

"Tea?" As if it's the magic word, Dwyer raised his head, "I like brewing tea."

"Oh?" Her gaze turns towards the lethargic boy, "Then here! And don't be conservative, there's plenty!" When the pouch reached Dwyer, it was almost bursting with tea leaves.

...She bought all of this? "Princess…"

"Please, just Camilla." She interrupts as she places a number of bowls and spoons on a table.

"I… okay. Miss Camilla, did you really…?"

"Absolutely!" She knew where he question was going, "I  **love**  children!" At long last, the tops to the pots opened, and the alluring aroma of fresh stew filled the room, "Eat to your heart's content, there's plenty to go around!"

The orphans looked towards Libra for confirmation… except Nina, who greedily went for a bowl. Poor girl, she's so used to scavenging that she probably thinks that the stew will vanish if she doesn't eat her fill as quickly as possible. "Please, go ahead." Libra nods…

Nina was already on her second bowl by the time the rest got their first. "Sweet Nina?" Camilla cood as Nina practically devoured the second bowl, "Don't eat so fast that you get a tummy ache, okay? I realize you might fear there won't be any left, but there's plenty. Take your time, enjoy it."

"Camilla?" Libra asked as he approached her.

"Oh, this is for you, too." She smiles.

"No, it's not that. I was going to say, is there anything you want me to do to repay for this?"

She laughed, "Keep taking care of them." Her hand deftly goes from her side to Libra's hand, leaving behind something rather heavy, this thing is attached to a set of strings. "I'd stay longer, but I have tasks to attend to." Her smile turns sorrowful, "It might be a few months before I'm able to return. Take care, okay?" She turns towards her retainers, "Beruka? Selena? Shall we depart?"

Despite it being phrased as a question, the two women take it as an order, "M-Miss Camilla?" Libra reached out, "By the gods, thank you so much."

She turns with a smile, "No, thank you. I've never felt so relieved in years." With that, the trio leaves. Libra looks at the object attached to a string. It's a pouch, and from the jingle from inside, it's a coin pouch…

The single heaviest gold pouch he has ever held.

"I'll send a prayer to the Dusk Dragon tonight." Ophelia declared, "For sending none other than a true hero to us."

"I'm still wary, due to her battle-axe… especially with, Beruka was it? It honestly scared me with how quickly she was about to, you know…" Siegbert shrunk back some, "Selena doesn't exactly give good vibes, either."

"Don't care, wasn't me." Nina said as she slurped down her… third? Fourth? Bowl. "Free food is still food."

"Nina, you should really take care and slow down." Ignatius fidgeted, "We don't want you getting sick on us."

"I'm freakin' starving! You expect me to slow down?!" She lashed back.

"And how will you react when your body decides to throw it back up?" Dwyer asks, "The stomach isn't meant to hold so much so quickly. You should remain conservative and slow down, lest you end up wasting what you ate." The orphans turned and looked at the ever-sleepy boy. Libra was also quite shocked, Dwyer rarely spoke so much, but even he never expressed such knowledge. "It's basic anatomy." He shrugs it off.

Now, just because Libra knows alot just from caring these orphans, doesn't mean they all opened up to him, and this was a first from Dwyer. Did this boy study advance sciences? What other knowledge does he posses? "Wow, Dwyer." Soleil gasped, "Can you say something else like that?"

"I dunno, I feel like going to sleep." And just like that, he's back to 'normal' Dwyer. "Should write a thank-you for Princess Camilla… maybe after I wake up."

"That's a splendid idea, Dwyer." Forrest nods, "Er, the thank-you note, that is." He then turns towards Libra, "We will see her again, right?"

Libra smiles and nods, "I do believe we will." He finally places the pouch in his personal drawer, "She did seem adamant about returning." With that, he finally gets his own bowl, considering that the first pot is  **finally**  almost gone. While he and the other orphans had about three bowls, Nina scarfed down five. Surprisingly, she didn't vomit any of it back up… though she did let out a very unladylike burp.

"Oh, food…" Nina lazily smiles as she sprawls out on the floor, "How I missed you."

That poor girl…

* * *

With an entire pot left of food, and an entire room of full stomachs, Libra returned to his desk to count out the gold, both his and Princess Camilla's. She gave him more than he's ever held at once, and she did so without a second thought. She really does love the children here, so it makes him wonder where she's been this whole time. It looked like she was no stranger to outdoor travel, so she obviously wasn't isolated. He has a feeling it's something to do with those 'tasks' she mentioned.

Still, he has a safety net of gold, but he refuses to let it go to his head. He still needs to follow his budget to make sure he has plenty on hand for a real emergency. Besides, since Ophelia has hit her puberty, that means Soleil won't be far behind… then Nina would be next. Looking over the building, the orphans are all sleeping soundly, content with full stomachs. The feeling of it is a foreign to Libra… when was the last time he ate his fill? He can't recall a such a moment.

Now then, the budget. First and foremost, he should get the door properly fixed, since those 'guards' broke a hinge. Then will be patching the holes in this building, then replacing the old and rotten wood. But! One thing at a time, he needs to make sure this gold doesn't 'vanish'. Still, there's a side of him that wants to do something special for them…

Maybe he should take them on a small shopping trip? Give them all a small allowance to get what they want? Nodding to himself, Libra stretches as he prepares himself for a quick nap.

* * *

By the time Libra and the others awoke, it was already the following morning. At first, it was a shock, but he supposes that's the power of a full stomach. At least, he thought every slept soundly, but then he noticed there was writing on his budget plan… alongside a sheet of paper. Among the numbers, things were circled, some were outright re-written and a lot of them had small notes.

All from Dwyer.

The boy had apparently looked over the entire thing and pointed out flaws. Is his intelligence a recent development? Or did Princess Camilla inspire something in him? Regardless, Libra is thankful. "Does everything look good enough?" Speak of the sleepy-head. "I hope it didn't come out too assertive."

"Of course not, any help is appreciated." Libra smiles, "But, if you don't mind me asking, is this recent?"

Dwyer smiles, "I've suppose I always had a knack for math and science, but I never really felt like pursuing it. My parents forced education on me, they wanted me to have a position on the council." The atmosphere around him turns tense, "They even hired a mage to keep me alert and able to study for longer, and well…"

"The spell backfired?" Libra guessed.

"Yep." He confirms, "Nothing I can do about it. I tire easily from the magical 'enhancements', and once my parents found out? I was removed."

He frowns, "I see. Dwyer… thank you for sharing that. I obviously don't know everything about you all, but I feel better knowing that you opened up to me."

Dwyer yawns, "It does feel nice, doesn't it? Um, mister Libra? Whenever you have the next budget ready, bring it to me first, okay? And if I'm sleeping… then leave a note, I guess? It felt pretty good to help out."

"Of course, Dwyer." The smile returns, "And again, thank you."

"...Oh, right." He stops before he leaves, and takes out a sheet of paper. "You wrote something about a shopping trip? Well, here's a suggestion for the allowance part… and something for me, in case I'm unable to stay awake."

Nodding, Libra takes the offered list. Dwyer soon returns to his normal spot and immediately lies his head down. The suggested allowance is slightly larger than what Libra figured, but it seemed more than reasonable, especially considering how much he suggested on what the budget should be. But then he noticed that the end of it had a folded section. Upon unfolding it, there was a heartfelt 'thank you' at the end. Libra smiled.

* * *

Ophelia woke up with a deep yawn, before stretching. While she looked towards each day with a positive outlook, due to Libra, she couldn't help but feel extra-good this time. Princess Camilla had literally popped out of nowhere and did so much for them. She was truly a blessing from the Dusk Dragon Himself. So, the first thing Ophelia did was clasp her hands and gave Him a prayer. Ophelia always believed in a higher power, it was a favorite when it came to tales.

Heroes and heroines, taking up sword and spell in the name of good, striking down evil-doers and righting the wrongs in the world. Princess Camilla did just that, but instead of steel and magic, she used gold and love. She still feels terrible for her magic going unstable, but there's nothing she can really do about it. Besides, Nina was spot on with her accusation. That's what some of her nightmares consist of, after all.

Will her mother ever properly walk again? Paralysis due to an electric spell. It was a time when Ophelia's magic had recently developed. At first, her parents took it as a sign that she was Blessed by the Dusk Dragon, since she was so young. So, they used their savings to get her a tutor for magic, rather than sending her to the school. Ophelia really liked her tutor, too. He was the one to introduce her to the world of heroes and destinies. Since then, she got it in her head that she was one of the Chosen Ones.

A mentality that was all but shattered that one day. Ophelia was rehearsing a speech, but she got too into it. And one thing she learned is that magic is bound tightly to emotions, as such, when Ophelia reached the climax of her declarations, her magic ended up bursting out, and at that time, it was electricity. Her mother took the brunt of it, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. Once her father found out, he threw out all of her books, canceled the tutor sessions, and threw her out. The once praised 'Blessing' turned into a 'Curse'.

Ophelia lived on the streets for a few weeks, a child unable to grasp the concept of survival. While she wasn't exactly pampered, she never really experienced the trials of 'the strong survive'. She had no idea what to do, she was too young for a job, and even if she did get one, she wouldn't have a clue on what to do.

Predictably, her magic flared several times from pressure, and one of those times she had the guards called on her. She was considered a threat. She might have been jailed or even outright executed, had Libra not stepped in. He took full responsibility of her, even paying the fine she caused. Even when her magic continued to go off in his orphanage, he kept her there. He is like the father she once had, before he kicked her out.

She could never repay all the kindness he gave her…

A debt that kept growing every time her magic flared. Libra had every right to remove her for all the interior damage she caused, but he didn't. He took his time to comfort her, and eventually, her mood became more and more stable, making the flares of magic rarer.

And out of all the times it flared, it had to happen to a woman who just gave her an incomprehensible amount of love. Her heart slowed as Camilla was hit by ice magic, and she saw her life flash before her eyes as Beruka almost killed her. But, just like Libra, Camilla shrugged it off. She even shoo'd her retainer out and resumed cooing words of love and affection.

In that moment, Camilla became the mother Ophelia once had.

As such, Ophelia was the first one to accept Camilla's embrace. The rest were deterred by the events. They asked what she saw in her. All they could seem to notice was her battle-axe and relatively rude retainers. As for Ophelia? All she saw was the doting and loving nature she held. Camilla is a living gift from the stars above, a Chosen One sent to give proper treatment for them.

So, it's a cruel joke that Ophelia's magic is flaring again. But this time it isn't because she became too engrossed in the speeches she has, or nightmares that visit her, it's because of her… women things. She was so embarrassed when Libra took her into a side room to explain what he knew of the weird stuff she was experiencing. He even took out a book to answer whatever questions she had.

...She really wish that her parents properly taught her how to read.

In fact, she thinks that Libra is the only one who can read out of the entire orphanage. Ophelia frowns at the thought. The generous man simply hadn't the time or energy to teach them. He has enough on his plate as is. She really hopes that Princess Camilla will visit again soon.

Sighing, Ophelia stands and looks around. The rest are still sound asleep, even Libra. Without much else to do, she returns to the spot she was just at and lies back down. Closing her eyes, she steadies her breathing and tries to fall back asleep.

* * *

Nina awoke with a start, she rarely really 'falls asleep', she usually lies down in a half-conscious state. People die if they completely slip into the dream-state, so the common human learns to stay partially aware when lying down. It unnerved her that she actually got real sleep in. Was she already that comfortable? No, it's due to having a full stomach, she didn't have the urge to abruptly wake up and steal a slice of bread. Taking a moment to look around, the rest are asleep.

She gets up, unwilling to fall back into that vulnerable state she was in earlier. She can't afford to do that again, regardless of how satisfied her hunger is, nor how 'safe' she might feel. Nohr is never safe. With her eyes darting around, she assesses what this beaten down building really offers. Due to its disrepair, Nina can spot a number of potential spots that could easily be broken into. Does Libra not notice this? Was he too sheltered to not know such weak points? That's not even to mention what might lie in the other rooms...

What did Libra have Ophelia do in that side room that left her so flustered? One moment, Ophelia expressed her discomfort, the next had Libra escort her to a side room with some of those things in his bag. Afterwards, Ophelia's face was flushed as she fidgeted back out. The first thought is that is was nothing good. Nina immediately assumes that she was initially correct, that Libra is actually getting more out of this. He is… obviously taking advantage of the situation.

But his generosity is so sincere…

No, it's a facade.

Narrowing her eyes, she expertly creeps over to Libra's desk, deftly working around the sleeping man to scan documents and the drawers. Everything seems to come out as 'normal', records of bills and gold count dominates most of it. His next shopping list is already being planned, it seems. There is even a number of edits by… Dwyer? So, he was awake earlier.

Getting to the last drawer it's… locked, actually. Not that it's an issue. Nina swiftly makes short work of it, picking past it and… wow. Gold-a-plenty. From where? Her eyes light up from the sparkling sea of coins. If… if she had all of that. Screw the orphanage, she could have herself a life from this. A free life…

At the cost of the others in here.

Does she care for them? No, not really. None of them obviously understand the real struggle of living on the streets. Licking her lips, she snags about a dozen coins for herself, before closing the drawer and locking it back.

Easy.

She then goes back to where she was sleeping and lies back down, this time making sure she doesn't fall completely to sleep.

* * *

Siegbert rises from his slumber, feeling far more content than he has in months, maybe even years. Wiping the remaining exhaustion from his eyes, he stands. While he still isn't exactly keen to the idea of Camilla, he can understand the seriousness of her gesture. She means well, even if she can be… imposing.

Besides, nobody else in here managed to calm Ophelia so quickly.

If Camilla can practically waltz in and soothe her like that, then she has to be extremely talented. Ophelia praised her as a 'Chosen One'. Siegbert might not hold her in the same regards, but he realizes charity when he sees it. In short, he appreciates what Camilla has done for them. He casts a look at the second pot of stew, which is still untouched.

That first pot had enough to fill everyone, which means the second one will last longer, since they aren't starving. And a full stomach is a blessing in itself. Smiling to himself, Siegbert walks over and gets the book that Libra has so painstakingly wrote himself. It's a book meant to teach them how to read, but he rarely gets to properly work on it. Siegbert has put his on thoughts towards it, but his shortened education means he can't finish it.

But that doesn't mean he won't try. Through trial and error, he slowly manages to fill it out himself. Grabbing some paper and a pencil, he partakes in the obstacle that is learning to read and write. This book won't finish itself, after all…

* * *

Soleil gets up and immediately places a smile on her face. She might not be as comfortable as Ophelia is around Camilla, but she definitely approves of her work. It warmed her heart when she managed to so easily calm the untrained mage. Soleil honestly worries for her more than anyone else. She hides it well, but Soleil assumes there is more to Ophelia's stress than being 'kicked out', that much was clear when Nina accused her of harming someone.

Soleil can't imagine her harming anyone, but she can't deny the possibility. Her magic can and will flare out of her control, that much is undeniable when Princess Camilla was hit with a blast of cold.

Stretching out her muscles, Soleil takes a moment to look around. Most of the others are asleep, except Siegbert, who is working on that book again. He claims it is to help them learn to read and write, but it's all jargon to her. None of it makes sense.

Deciding against falling back asleep, Soleil insteads walks around, finishing off her waking up so that she can greet the new day with a shining smile. No good can come from remaining so sour and pessimistic… much like how Nina seems to approach things.

But, then again, Soleil hasn't been placed in a position where she  **had**  to steal or possibly harm someone. While Forrest claims that he was kicked out because he was 'too feminine', Soleil had the opposite, her body was 'too masculine'. The truth? She has shown an interest in swordplay, and that is apparently a huge strike against her, "Women don't take up arms!" Is what her mother told her. The 'ideal' woman apparently does housework and, well, performs tasks like needlework… kind of like what Forrest does.

It just hits her on what exactly happened to Forrest. She thinks he was kicked out because he wanted to sew. She was kicked out because she wanted to learn more about weapons. The smile dips into a frown, why are there these gender restrictions? It's no secret Maids are skilled in daggers, nor that Butlers can be experts in sewing.

Or are their parents too ashamed to have them pursue servant-type professions?

Shaking her head and placing that smile back on, Soleil goes over to the picture book of various weaponry, focusing on the ones detailing swords. She can't explain why she likes them, it's not like she wants to fight and kill. She just likes them…

Especially the ones with pink-dyed leather on the grips.

* * *

Forrest is the next to rise, before having to shift some hair from his face. He frowns as he realizes it's going to have to be trimmed soon, he likes his hair long. He only had that luxury once, and that was back when he still lived with his family. He naturally has soft, smooth hair… more so than his own mother. And while that was all fine with his parents… until he displayed an interest in sewing. "Men don't use needles!" His father yelled at him...before calling him a faggot.

He was warned to drop all interest in needlework, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't until his curiosity was at its peak when he sneaked into the craft room. His eyes sparkled as he greedily took up a needle and thread. Within the hour, he made a truly charming scarf without a hitch. It was beautifully colored and sported many bright designs…

Then his father found out how exactly he got that scarf.

He burned it.

Then kicked him out.

Once out on his own, he found himself clueless. Father left him with but rags. "Being pretty is for women." Is what he was told. Given nothing else, Forrest walked the streets. It was around that time his more feminine looks became a burden. Perhaps also due to his youth, he looked more a young girl than a boy. He was on the receiving ends of some very intense stares.

He is infinitely thankful Libra took him into his orphanage within that same week. Forrest didn't know how much longer he would have walked those streets before something… happened. Shivering at the unspoken possibilities, Forrest goes to do what he does best.

Sewing.

He purposely tore some of his garment just to sew it back up. He feels terrible for wasting materials, but he needs the distraction, lest those memories start haunting him again.

* * *

Ignatius shakes off the remaining sleep with ease. It's been a while since he has slept so soundly. And with no nightmares, too! Quickly thanking both Camilla and the Dusk Dragon, he gets up and stretches. Siegbert is working on the reading book again, which Ignatius has learned a little bit from. Forrest is sewing his shirt… again.

It always baffled him how often his shirt rips. But, Ignatius assumes it has to due with how overused it is.

Nina and Dwyer are still asleep, as is Libra. Soleil, however, is up and about with her usual smile on. It raises his own mood to see her constantly looking at life so brightly. He wishes he could have that same optimism. Still, taking from her example, he too smiles. Then he takes that borrowed happiness and walks over to Siegbert. "Hey…" He starts as he takes a chair near him.

"Hello, Ignatius." He replies as he looks over his work. "I don't suppose you came for another lesson?" And there it is, the ever caring nature Siegbert possesses. It's different to what Camilla has, but it's caring nonetheless.

"What do you think of Princess Camilla?"

He stops writing, "She means well." He concludes, "But I'm sure you can understand my hesitation for welcoming her so quickly."

"I do." The boy nods, "Well, it's more of her retainers that bothers me."

"I know… poor Ophelia." A silence falls soon after, then Siegbert resumes his writings.

"That was a surprise, huh? With Dwyer, I mean."

A single nod, "Yes, it was. Though, I suppose I'm more worried for his lethargic nature than what he actually knows."

"Letha…"

"Laziness." He supplies, "Sorry."

"No, it's alright… what was it like? Studying all of that?"

"At times? Testing. Though I wished I could have learned more." The air turns tense.

Siegbert never really opened up on what exactly had him removed. He once said it was due to an intense shyness, but Ignatius fears something more… In fact, the same can be said for the rest. Except him, he was the first to open up. It wasn't due to 'shyness', but fear. Ignatius had a case of a number of fears and instead of trying to help overcome them, his parents 'discarded' him.

Libra and the others here are the reasons why he became braver. As such, he devotes himself to become less fearful, to become a protector… and Siegbert has became a great role model for that. "Actually, a lesson sounds good, if you don't mind."

* * *

Princess Camilla didn't make another visit for several months. Yet, when she did the effect was immediate. Ophelia quickly ran over and took the first hug with pride and joy. "Mama Camilla." Were the first two words to come out of her mouth. The room was silent afterwards.

"Aw, how adorable!" Were Camilla's. "And I  **love**  the sound of that." With that, she picks up the untrained Mage and spins her around. "Oh, you've grown so much." She said in between peppering her with kisses.

"It's good to see you again, Pr… Camilla." Libra greets. "I… can't thank you enough."

"Hm? Oh, that wasn't much at all, dear." She smiles, "Besides, I absolutely adore children… even the ones growing into fine adults." That statement was directed towards Ophelia.

"Hello, Camilla." Forrest speaks up, "I… made you something." He shows off a scarf, made from small and otherwise 'useless' scraps, "It isn't much, but…"

"Oh, it's beautiful!" She accepts it without a second thought. "Thank you, darling." She then gasps, "Oh, right… one moment. Selena? Dear? Do bring the stuff in now." The orphans tense at the thought of the prickly red-hair coming in, but once they saw she was carrying in wrapped goods?

Well, they were at least a little less tense. "Uh, Camilla?" Libra asked.

"Gifts!" She immediately exclaims. "Let's see… I'll start with… Ophelia." She grabs a relatively small box, in the shape of a rectangle. "Here you go."

Ophelia's eyes shine as she gently grabs it, then looks up to Camilla, as if unsure this is actually for her. A simple nod from Camilla was all the assurance she needed and she carefully opened it. Inside the wrap was, obviously, a box, but inside that box? "Ooo…" She picks up the gift, "A book." She smiles, but it isn't as bright as Camilla thought.

"Is something wrong? I thought I got the right genre. It's about heroes and magic…"

"Oh, it is?" Ophelia asked, "Yes! I love that, but… I can't read."

"Oh… I'm so sorry. I didn't think of that."

"I'll read it for you, Ophelia." Libra offers.

"Um, actually I would like to read it for her." It's Siegbert, "I've almost finished that book, and I'm certain I can do this."

"Aw, how considerate they are, too! You truly raised them right, Libra." She then grabs another box, "Here, Siegbert." In her hands is a slightly larger box.

"You… didn't have to." He shyly accepts it, "But I am grateful regardless." With that, he opens it, "Hm? I recognize that symbol…"

"The mark of the Dusk Dragon." She smiles, before scooting a little closer, "I'm terribly sorry for your disownment."

"I… how?!" His eyes suddenly become wary.

"I have access to a lot of information, dear." Her expression turns serious. "And while I can't do anything to reverse that, I can promise that you'll be compensated in some fashion."

Why does that statement sound so dangerous? "No one is getting… hurt, are they?"

For a moment, she's silent, but then she smiles, "Nothing permanent, no." Her smile suddenly comes out sinister. Yet, she walks away before he can ask more. "Now then! Dwyer!" She exclaims as she grabs a relatively large box. "Here you go, sleepy-head." She giggles.

"Oh… thank you." He lazily replies as he ever-so-slowly opens it. "A… tea kettle?" He smiles. "It looks really expensive. Silver?" He suddenly asks, "It's enchanted too, isn't it? I can tell by the slight gleam to the metals."

"Good eye, Dwyer. And yes, it is. This will not only make it easier to make, but also bring out more of the flavor in the tea leaves."

"Why, thank you. I'll be sure to use this." And for once, he doesn't lie his head back down afterwards.

"Soleil, dear?" The girl in question walks up as Camilla hands her a longer and skinnier box, "There you go!"

"Oof, kinda heavy." She comments with a grunt… sounding more like a boy than a girl. Yet, she lowers it to a table without a problem, "Let's see…" Unlike the others so far, she practically rips into it. "Oh, my…" The weight of it became clear… a sword. "Oh. my. Gods. The handle is  **pink**!" She giggles. "Nohrian steel, too?"

"Actually, that's…" Camilla starts.

"Obsidian?" Dwyer asks, "That must have costed a small fortune."

"That's… right." Camilla seems surprised, "You  **are**  smart, Dwyer. Obsidian isn't very known."

"It does look like standard Nohrian steel, doesn't it? Soleil, look at it from an angle, do you see the way the light reflects off of it? Nohrian steel doesn't provide the same gleam. That gleam actually makes it a viable material to make anti-magic armaments from." Once more, the room is sent into a stunned silence.

"That is also correct." Camilla confirms. "Alright… Ignatius?" The largest of the orphans steps up. "This is for you." His box, ironically, is the smallest of the bunch.

"Thank you, Camilla." He smiles as he opens it. "It's…" He stops as he pulls out a… stuffed bear? "So, soft." He immediately gives the small decoration a hug.

"That should help with your sleeping issues." She has a knowing glint in her eye. "I would know, my…" A pause, "dear, sweet little sister had the same problem."

"Little sister?" He echoes.

"Elise. She's a ball of sunshine and happiness." Despite the description, Camilla frowns. "Forrest, dear?" She looks at the young boy, "For you." He, undoubtedly, has the largest of the boxes… in fact, she had Selena bring it to him.

"Oh my. I hope you didn't spend too much." Forrest says as he delicately removes the wrapping, then opens the box. "A… gods. Sewing kit?" His face lights up, "And…" His mouth snaps shuts as his face lights up… with a flush.

"Doesn't it look adorable?" She asks as she approaches him. "I hope I guessed right."

"I never wore a dress before." He whispers. "But, it looks so lovely and… yes. I think you are right." He finally brings out the dress. A lovely combination of dark purple and bright reds greet him. "Does it have to be so… you know, revealing?" He notices that it's meant to… well, emphasis certain feminine looks.

"I would have knitted it myself, but I hadn't the time. So, there wasn't much choice. But!" She suddenly exclaims, "I did buy some matching threads so that you can customize it."

Forrest looks back into the box and, yes, there they are. "Gods, thank you so much, Camilla." He throws his arms around her and gives her a tight hug. She eagerly returns the hug.

"Now, last but not least, Nina!" She directs her gaze towards the last orphan… Who still keeps her distance. "Oh, perhaps this will change your outlook on me?" She offers a medium sized box.

Nina hesitantly takes it, clearly wary. She opens it with a precision that shows off her skills with lock-picking and pick-pocketing. "Clothes?" She asks, clearly confused.

"Enchanted and woven from some of the highest quality."

"Higher than mine, most certainly." Forrest nods.

"Oh, well… thanks." Nina looks away.

"Hm… The enchantments are for warmth…" She starts, which immediately catches Nina's attention, "There should be one for durability so that it doesn't tear so easily. I even had a few pockets sewed on the inside…" She smiles, a proud look in her eyes.

"That's…" Nina is at a loss for words, now that she knows what it has, she looks happy.

"But, of course," Camilla finally addresses Libra, "I gotten you something, too." She, of all things, undoes her pouch and gives it to him…

It's larger than the last one. "C-Camilla, I couldn't with a clear mind accept that."

"Oh, don't be so modest. I spent more on these wonderful children, anyway."

"Th-That doesn't really soothe my concerns." He admits.

"I also got two more pots of stew coming in."

"Camilla, please tell me you save enough for yourself?" He finally asks.

"Absolutely!" She quickly answers. "So, here."

He hesitantly accepts the pouch, "may you have every blessing the Dusk Dragon has to offer."

"And for you, too." She winks. "Now then, I'm afraid I have to make my leave here. I'll see you all next time!"

"Bye, Momma Camilla!" Ophelia calls out.

"Yeah, Mommy Camilla!" Soleil joins in. The smile Camilla returned somehow paid back that affection at least two-fold.

* * *

Libra has been beside himself for the last several weeks. He still can't get over the fact of how much Camilla has done for this orphanage. 'Mommy Camilla' isn't far off, as Nina is the only one that is hesitant to call her that. In just two visits, Camilla has done leagues more than everyone else combined. His family of orphans are better off than they ever would have been.

Ophelia has her book beside her, with the 'reading' book next to it. She looks as if she is trying  **really**  hard to learn to read, if only to be able to read that one book. Forrest happily spends his days sitting in his dress, sewing up garments for others to wear. Ignatius looks far more rested than he has since he got that teddy bear. Soleil has been practicing with her sword… it turns out she's stronger than she actually looks, as she's already comfortable with the weight. Dwyer's tea now tastes like it has been made with a decent amount of tea leaves… despite only using that same amount he usually uses. Siegbert has taken an interest in that Dusk Dragon emblem, Libra has even noticed he started regularly praying to Him with that emblem clasped between his hands. Libra even thinks he is more faithful than the rest of them combined. Finally, Nina rarely takes off that outfit, as apparently one of those enchantments include resistant to dirt and stench.

...And all the while, Libra has yet to go through even half the gold he was given. The orphanage has been repaired, and he even had it extended, so that he can have more rooms. Yet, despite that, all of them still sleep in the same room. Habits.

Before he knew it, Camilla had returned… with a new person in tow. After the wave of 'Momma Camilla' came and went, she introduced the man. What stuck out for Libra and the rest, was that his eyes were a vivid red and his ears pointed. "Darlings, this is my lovely little brother, Corrin." She smiles, "Go on dear, give them a hug." She nudges the man a bit forward. At first, he seemed nervous, a shyness Libra recognized in Ignatius and Siegbert. But, once he got a hug in?

Gods, he was as into it as Camilla was. Even though all he had to offer were hugs, the kids took to him as well as Camilla.

Aside from Corrin, Camilla had, once again, brought two massive pots of stew. But this time, that was it. As for why? "This is the second time I ever saw him." Camilla brought Libra to the side as Corrin practically snuggled with the others. "I know I haven't told you much, but I am overworked."

"I could assume as much." He nods, "But, gods… only twice?" Her expression turns grim, and she refused to divulge in any more information. Fair enough.

If only Libra knew that would be the last good visit.

* * *

This day started as any other. Everyone was awake… except Dwyer, but at least he was semi-alert. Forrest began sewing, Soleil practiced her sword arm, Dwyer napped, Ignatius was learning to read with Siegbert, Siegbert was re-reading that book to Ophelia for the 'umpteenth millionth time' as Siegbert puts it, and Nina leaned against the wall. Nina has become approachable, but she still keeps her distance. So, Libra would reasonably assume it would be just another day.

"...We got visitors." Nina called out. "A lot, too." She may have stopped thieving, but she is still keen on her senses. "Armored." That last call-out worried Libra.

And he had every right too, because the door was busted down the next moment. "We've come to relieve you of your burden." Is the next thing he heard.

"They are not a burden!" He immediately counters.

"Silence." Came the, what he assumed, was the leader's response. "Bind them." With a diligence, the soldiers moved out.

"Aw, hell no!" Nina reacted violently, drawing her dagger, "Back off, bastard!"

"No way you're taking me from Libra!" Soleil added, brandishing her sword.

"Oh, how adorable." The leader scoffed, "Good, that reduces the amount of time we'll be whipping you into shape."

"Wh-what?" Forrest asks. "What do… hey!" He tries to move away from the impending soldier, but he is restrained. "L-Libra!"

"Let them…"

"Go?" The leader walks up, "If you want to be executed for defying the Crown, go ahead. Finish that threat."

"Oh yeah?" Nina snarls, "Just till Momma Camilla hears about this!"

He laughs…

He actually laughed. "Girl, she's dead." A silence follows.

"L-Liar!" Siegbert speaks up. "She…"

"Can't die?" He turns towards the boy, "What a foolish claim. Anyone can die. But wait, there's more! Not only did Camilla die a traitor's death, but Elise and Corrin have also turned against Nohr and fled to Hoshido. So, tell me. Who will stand for you scumbags?" A pause, "No-one, exactly."

"M-Momma Camilla is… dead?" Ophelia repeats, "N-No, she can't…"

"Did you not just hear me?!" The man actually slaps Ophelia, "Camilla. Is.  **Dead**."

"Heroes don't 'just die'!" She screams, tears flooding from her eyes. "You… You're a liar! I refuse to believe you!" Her arms crackle with magic as she stares the man down…

His smile dies out as her magic could literally both be seen and felt. "Oh… dear." Forrest, disregarding the soldiers, sighs.

"Not good." Soleil agrees.

"You had to go and fuck it up, didn't you?" Nina smirks.

Re-composing himself, he scoffs. "So? She has no control over her magic anyway. For all you know, it'll just lash out and kill all of you."

"A Chosen One would never endanger the innocent!" Ophelia spits back, "Pity the fool who dares inspires the maiden's wrath. How doth you to cross the line into the realm of the sanctioned, and containment artifacts deemed precious."

Pulling out a rope, he moves to bind her like the rest, "Yeah, nice speech. Now shut up."

Except that, when the rope made contact with her still-flaring arms, it immediately turned to cinders. It was then that he realized he just did something he wasn't supposed to do. "Face the judgement of Ophelia Dusk, the stars deem you foul, and have granted upon me the power to appropriately punish you!" One arm raises, "Celestial Crush!" With tear-ridden eyes, she opens her hand, palm facing the man…

Then she snaps it into a fist, a torrent of magic exits her and in one sick motion, crushes him as if she actually had him in her hand. No screams of pain, no cries for mercy… just one quick death.

Ophelia collapses afterward, magically spent.

Another heavy silence, "Yeah! Kiss the ground, dumbass!" Nina cheers.

That silence lasted but a moment, before the soldiers doubled their efforts to bind the rest. One by one, the orphans were kept still, and one soldier slung an unconscious Ophelia over his shoulder. "Your income will be taken as well…" The man with Ophelia says. "Have fun rotting in here."

All he could do was to stand there. Attacking would only make things worse. "Gods…" He notices a glint on the ground… Siegbert's Dusk Dragon medallion. "Dusk Dragon, please take heart and listen to my plea for help. Use your shadows to shield them from harm. I, Libra, pray onto You… Shalim."

* * *

The orphans were taken to a room inside Krakenburg. It's filled with weapons and other armaments. Soleil's obsidian sword and Nina's hidden weapons were confiscated. Ophelia's still unconscious body was sat down in a chair. "She… killed him." Ignatius spoke, then shivered.

"Well, duh." Nina turned aggressive, "That's what happens. Is that the first death you ever seen? Welcome to Nohr."

"We shouldn't be at each other like this." Forrest chided her. His dress has been replaced with a simple shirt and pants combo.

"I… can't believe that Camilla…" Soleil takes a shaky breath. "Gods."

"H-Hey! Let go of me you… damn human!" The orphan's heads rise up at that declaration, "I don't need my Beaststone to take you out!"

"Wolfskin or Kitsune?" Dwyer asked. "Probably Wolfskin. They're native to Nohr."

As if he could perfectly see it coming, a young Wolfskin was thrown into the room, her clothes were tattered, it seemed she wore some sort of red shawl and a pair of pants that didn't exactly fit. "Oh, when I…" She stops and visibly pales as a guard wielding a lance walks in.

"Beast Killer." Dwyer supplies. "Enchanted to produce a toxin that is fatal to anything considered a 'beast'."

The Wolfskin slowly backs up as the man walks closer. Her breathing is frantic as she ends up tripping. "Know your place, bitch." He spits as he leaves.

The girl stays in place, her eyes are wide and she is still breathing fast. "Hey… ma'am?" Siegbert is the first to reach out.

Her eyes snap to him, "Stay back!"

"We're not enemies. We've been forced in here, too." Ignatius tries next.

"So? That only proves how depraved you humans are." She growls.

"Let's… give her some space, guys." Dwyer suggests. "Pushing the matter won't help anyone."

"U-Ugh…" Ophelia stirs, stumbling out of the chair, "Where am I?" She groans as she struggles to get a proper footing. Siegbert is there to to keep her stable, "Hm? Oh, thanks." She shakes her head, "Uh, this isn't…" She stops.

"Ignatius?!" Siegbert immediately calls him over.

"On it!" The massive man is there the next moment, "Ophelia, listen to me, alright? Take deep breaths."

"M-Momma Camilla is…" She whimpers as the man brings her into a hug. "He was lying, right? He had to be." She openly cries, "M-Momma Camilla!" At least she isn't causing waves of magic right now.

"That was a nice kill you did back there." Nina comments.

"Nina!" Soleil chides her, "You're not helping!"

"Huh? I'd thought it would be better than thinking about… you know."

"I… killed someone?" She pauses. "I don't remember." She retreats from Ignatius as she thinks it over, "I was told Momma Camilla died then… I got angry and… I felt  **something**. I heard a whisper, too… but it was like it was yelling, too… like it was incapable of doing anything more than a whisper." She taps her head, "Big too, it was big. And…"

"Shh, Ophelia." Ignatius manages to hug her again, "Focus on the good things. Small, cute animals. Like a cat trotting down a grassy plains, playing…"

"Amongst her little kittens, when a dog comes by and asks to join in." Ophelia continues while smiling, "The cats didn't object, a friend is a friend. Thank you, Ignatius."

"You humans are a strange bunch." The Wolfskin speaks up.

"My name is Soleil, what's yours?" She offers her signature smile.

"And you even smile when you know you're being mistreated?" The Wolfskin chuckles and shakes her head, "Velouria."

"Good to meet you. The tallest is Ignatius, he's hugging the oldest of us, Ophelia. Siegbert is off to the side there, Dwyer… is already sleep, surprise." Soleil giggles and shrugs her shoulders, "Let's see, Forrest is right there, and the salty one there is Nina."

"I am not salty." She spits back.

"I rest my case." Soleil giggles again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Velouria, all things considered." Forrest offers her a gentle smile.

"I'd rather make friends, then more enemies, Velouria." Siegbert nods, "I hope you feel the same."

"Don't piss me off, and we'll get along fine." Nina goes to lean against a wall.

"Don't mind me…" Dwyer mumbles from his now prone position.

"I hope you'll get comfortable with us, Velouria." Ignatius speaks up.

"If you're here with us, then the cosmos have deemed us worthy of being united." Her tears have dried up, and she looks better than before.

"Yeah, alright." Velouria concedes, "Nice to meet you and all that. Now, let's see how long that goodwill lasts.


	6. Blood, Life, and Dark Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof... it took me long enough to get Odin's chapter up and out. But, here he is.
> 
> Rated 'H' for Henry. Rated 'H' content includes blood, casual jokes about gore and death, and no concern for ending life.

Odin Dark, the Dark Mage who works as a retainer under the powerful Prince Leo, sits alone in his room. He… this is a job he almost regrets taking. How was he to know how sadistic that man was? Odin always thought himself as a talented Dark Mage, but not only did Prince Leo crush any thoughts of that, he even tried to shove a sword his way since, ‘I don’t need another mage protecting me’. But, if that was really the case, then why even choose Odin to begin with? He knew the man is a Mage, a Dark Mage at that.

What would his mother say at this point? If she were to see him in such a insufferable situation? No, he knows exactly what she might say. “Aw, cheer up!” He finds himself mimicking her voice, “Being glum isn’t going to make your day any easier… so smile!” As if imagining her presence has such an effect, Odin does in fact, start to smile. He gets off of his bed and reaches under, pulling out a very sacred and cherished box. This doesn’t contain some notebook of his favorite set of names, speeches. It doesn’t have a rare set of herbs to use with spells, no, this has something far more valuable than all of that and more. In it lies three small vials, and on each of these items are labels. If someone were to look over his shoulder right now, and into the box, they might call him a sick and twisted person…

Why? Each of these vials is filled to the brim with blood. One contains his mother’s, one his father’s, and one of his own...

* * *

Owain assumed his stance, sword held across from him with his other arm parallel to the blade. “Ice Crescent… Slash!” In a swift motion, he sliced through the air in an arc… with just a hint of ice magic lagging behind the attack. While most would either be skilled in just physical or magical, Owain had a talent for both. And instead of choosing to carry both a sword and tome, he did something that he thought was truly unique…

Combine them. His sword is akin to a focal point, as he channels his magic into the weapon itself, granting him the ability to apply elemental effects with every strike.

Of course, like every great ability, there are drawbacks to such techniques. Channeling fire causes the metal to heat up, quickening the time it takes for the blade to dull. Ice make it easier to chip. Electricity dances off of the metal and tends to shock himself as well. Wind magic causes a higher strain on his muscles. But, for the few instances where he can test it, there is one element that seemingly has no drawbacks…

“Nightly Sunder!” Dark magic. He notes that Dark magic increases the ‘oomph’ in each swing. Using it allows him to bypass most physical defenses. It seems as if it’s the perfect fix, so why wouldn’t he practice it more?

“O-Owain!” His mother, Lissa screeched as she stormed over to him, “What did I tell you one-hundred million times?!” Though she is shorter than him, he can’t help but feel small when she’s angry.

“No Dark Magic.” He admits.

“And why do I keep telling you that?”

“The power of Dark Magic comes at the expense of one’s life.” He hangs his head.

“Then why do you keep doing it? I…” She pauses as tears form, “I don’t understand! Why do you keep wanting to waste your life away? It’s not worth it!”

“It’s the only magic that doesn’t wear down weapons.”

“Because it’s wearing  **you**  down, instead!” Her anger has since been replaced with concern… before it hits a fiery determination, “Where are they? The tomes?”

“Mother! Wh-what tomes?”

“Dark Magic, where are you hiding them this time?” Her face is a mixture of anger and tears, “Owain, tell me.”

“...In my room, under my bed.” He admits with a flinch.

Satisfied with his answer, what little anger she had faded and she nodded, “Alright, now you wait here.” Owain takes a moment to contemplate his mother’s insistence to avoiding Dark Magic. He looks down, she… just doesn’t understand. There is this… allure that Dark Magic possesses, a need to use it. That allure didn’t even come when he used it, he just simply… looked at the tome and there it was, that urge.

He feels as if he and Dark Magic were made for each other. “Owain… Dark.” He mutters to himself. “Owain Dark.” He repeats. “I… am. Owain Dark!” Oh yes, that even sounds right. “I am Owain Dark! Master of the forbidden Dark Magic, I stand with the darkness, the evils that some fear, I call my home.” His face lightens up. He looks at his hand, the one that wields his sword, and he looks at a nearby rock, it roughly stands to his knees. Smiling, he charges it at, “Void-Infused Cleave!” He shouts as his sword glows a darkening purple, causing the blade to cut through it, as if it were simply cloth.

If only he knew the words to convince mother…

* * *

Dinner that night was somber. One chair for Lissa, one for Owain… and one empty one for his father. He never really knew his father, and mother tends to stray away from topics concerning him. All he ever really got is that… Yes, he is still alive. Yes, Lissa loves him with her whole being. Yes, Lissa wishes to be by his side again. No, Owain can’t go see him right now. Time and time again she told him ‘when he is older’. But, he is almost an adult!

Mother, despite being a rather… small and frail looking woman, has a real talent with axes. It is almost frightening seeing someone her size heft around a battleaxe that  **matches**  her height, and swing it around with efficiency. She tried to get him hooked on axes, too, but swords always felt better for him… not that she protested.

He and her live only about a half-hour’s trip from the closest city in Nohr, whilst Krakenburg is a hefty several day journey. Not that he ever wants to visit there. Mother has a very noticeable disdain towards the King of Nohr. It’s really the only time she ever gets angry. That’s right, she doesn’t get frustrated or irritated.

Lissa gets angry.

And seeing her angry brings a worse terror than her swinging around that battleaxe to rip apart the dummies.

It’s another topic she tries to divert him from when it’s brought up. But, once it hits the point where mostly everything has been discussed and there’s nothing really to say about their time spent since they rarely leave the property, Owain has a hard time not bringing up father or her ire towards Nohr…

And tonight is no different.

“Mother… about father…?” He lets the question hang, knowing that she’ll probably just start talking about the weather.

She stops mid-cut of the weak excuse for a steak… but it’s not like Nohr has anything really good on demand. If you want a good steak, then you have to go and raise a cow yourself. But even then, you run the risk of getting some sickly beast. “I keep telling you to wait, don’t I?” She sighs. “It’s not fair, is it? Being apart from him. Knowing that I still love him, but you never could receive his attention.”

“...Mother?” She has ranted before, but this seems… off.

“You do have his talent for Dark Magic, though…”

“Father used Dark Magic?”

“He rarely used anything else. He’s one of the few who used it for so long and so often, but also managing to resist the temptation of using more than his body and mind would allow.” She pokes the steak with her fork, “Then there’s you. I see you still casting it, and I obviously worry… but you always come out of it unscathed. I see him when you cast Dark Magic.”

“What else can you tell me?” He grasps onto that precious information, desperate…

“Son… to Nohr, he’s a criminal.” That declaration came out so smoothly from her, as if it didn’t bother her at all. “I can’t deny that, your father has performed a lot of crimes, things that I don’t agree with, but… Owain, do you really want to see him?”

His father has done truly immoral things? That’s… absurd! “Of course, I…”

“I won’t be able to come with you.” She cuts him off. “In between the time of traveling, you’re on your own.”

“Wh-why? You want to see him too, don’t you?”

She smiles, “I do.”

“Then why…?”

“Because we both know that it’s for our own safety that we don’t.” She plops a piece of steak in her mouth.

“So, if I were to go out and see him. Will I ever see you again?”

She giggles, “Of course, silly.” The giggling fades, “Just… not often.” She looks at him with that wonderful smile, “Well, I’ll get everything ready for tomorrow.” With a half-finished meal, Lissa rises, “I… would also recommend you change yourself as a person when you’re with him. Merely being with him will be enough to charge you with crimes.”

...How can she say that with a smile?

* * *

Owain found it hard to sleep that night. Excitement and concern danced through him in equally high amounts. The former for being able to go see his father, the latter for how smoothly mother was willing to part with him to do so. There’s no doubt she loves her husband, but… what kind of crimes did he do? What threshold did he cross to make him immoral? What kind of power does he possess?

Could that power include Dark Magic?

“Owain, time to get up!” ...in the middle of the night? “Oh, I know you better than that, come on, up.”

“One moment, mother.” He replies as he stands, then goes to get his clothes. “I thought you said tomorrow?” He asks as he opens his door.

“It  **is**  tomorrow.” She still has that happy outlook… with his sword next to her, recently polished and sharpened. “Alright, just gotta do ooooone little thing.” Once she hands him his sheathed sword, she hops off.

He follows.

She takes him to the living room, where there is something new. “A box?”

“Your father taught me one spell, something to help track him down if there ever came a situation where we had no choice but to live with him.” She starts off, “I’m gonna need your necklace.”

That’s right, the only true memento from his father… Lissa has one, too. Nodding, he undoes the chain to the precious gift and hands it to her. “I knew there was great magical potential to this!”

“It’s not the type of magic that should be openly acknowledged.” She supplies as she opens the box. A healing staff, a small glass vial… and a dagger. “Spells fueled by blood.” Owain stood there, stunned. His mother, without hesitating, placed the necklace onto a free spot on the box, then took out the dagger, holding her arm above the red jewel on the necklace. She gasps and lets out a whimper of pain, trying to hide her pain. Drip, drip, drip, the jewel is splattered with blood, before the stone itself lights up, as if coming alive from her life fluid. She then moves her arm over to the vial and cuts a bit deeper, filling the smaller container. “There…” She heaves a sigh as she takes up the healing staff instead, “Your necklace will lead you to him… and there’s extra blood in case the stone uses up what I gave it.”

“Mother…” Is this the type of magic his father normally performs?

“I’ll always love you and him. You know that, right?” She hops over and gives him a big hug, “I love you, and I’ll see you sometime soon, okay? Be safe, and… just be you. If you’re going to change, change because  **you**  want to change. Besides…” She takes a breath, “You are Owain Dark! Master of your own destiny!”

...Her lines could use some work, but the attempt is appreciated regardless. “Thank you, mother. I love you too.” A pause as the two end the embrace, “Oh… what is his name?”

“Henry.” Nodding, they exchange one more set of goodbyes, and with that, Owain Dark leaves. From one parent to another. A healer who wields a battle-axe to a Dark Mage who also uses blood-fueled magic.

* * *

The most Owain has ever traveled before is the nearby city. He and his mother never had a reason to go much further than that. If they couldn’t make it on their house, then it could be found in the market, if it couldn’t be found in the market, then it was something they didn’t need. So, as Owain crossed through the city once more, to stock up on traveling supplies, like dried jerky, some first aid items, alongside some diluted vulnerary, he was ready to begin his journey.

The now blood-red gem in his necklace pulsed eerily, it almost felt  **wrong** . Perhaps it’s because he knows his mother’s blood covers it? That she so easily forced herself to bleed to get the spell to work.

Standing at the entrance, he takes on deep breath, clears his mind, and takes the first step. The first time he’s ever left the city in this direction. He feels a sort of ‘tug’ in his mind, with the source being the blood-stained gem. At first, the gem kept him on one of the main trails, and he had the chance to greet a number of other travelers. Most of them seemed to be merchants, though there were a few mercenaries here and there. Patrolling guards were almost non-existent.

It’s no wonder bandits have almost free reign.

He’s heard many times in the nearby city about how bandits did this or that. There would be people walking into the city without a single coin to their name… some even came with naught but there undergarments. And to make matters worse, Nohr was the worst place to be so poor. There were no charitable sources, no place that offers free food and water to the broken. The guards were even ordered to immediately kick out anyone who was both poor and begged for nourishment.

Nohr simply lacked the resources for such things.

Shaking his head, he continues traveling along the main road, with another large city is on the horizon, so… he’ll have another chance to…

The tug switches directions. Off the main road, onto a side road. Now, there is a forest in the distance. Well, if father truly is a criminal, then it’d make more sense to be away from the masses. Following the urge, he shifts his direction. Off to the woods.

* * *

It was clear that this side road wasn’t well-traveled. Few footprints were plastered on the dirt… and there seemed to be long, slender trails instead. The type of trails that would point out that someone’s body was dragged across the ground. He shivered at the implications. However, he is Owain Dark! Death is far below him, he is mightier than the common person. His skills are beyond a mere bandit’s.

It will still be a good idea to stay level-headed, though. He is only one man, and even if he was the world’s strongest, a group of bandits could still take him out.

Step by step he continues, the minutes tick away as he stays alert. Once he approaches the forest, bandits won’t be the only concern. Bears and wolves would start popping up.

He double-checks his pack, good. He still has enough to get him through safely. Some tomes, pre-made wards, flint and steel, food, water. He’s good to go. Nodding to himself, he resumes walking.

...He won’t lie, there’s a part of him that wants to turn around. He’d never dream of leaving mother behind like that. He’d rather his father come to him, but that’s not an option. Besides, he has already traveled too far to turn back now.

The ‘tug’ starts to fade, so he decides that this will be a resting point. He pushes himself just enough so that the trees are a fair distance away, far enough so that even a skilled archer would have great trouble sniping him. Setting up camp, he gets to work to prepare for the night.

It’s a good thing Lissa taught him these skills.

Tent, campfire, some food and water, sword by his side, a tome on the other. Getting a makeshift seat in the form of the ground, he sits and eats… Nohr has never been so silent. It’s almost like the land itself is without life. He hadn’t realized how used he was to noise, like his mother working on blades, or even the animals that roamed near his house.

Finished with his meal, he yawns and stretches. He then goes into the admittedly cheap tent, where he barely fits. The tent is several years old, something his mother made when he was over a foot shorter than he is now. Taking a breath, he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep…

* * *

Shing, clang, echoes… Owain awakes to the sound of metal clashing with metal. “Back off, bastard!” He hears someone yell, followed by something gurgling… probably blood. “Nice try, not!” A woman? He is up and out of his tent in the next moment, to where there were at least a half-dozen corpses around his campsite, and a single woman finishing off the last one. Her vibrant red hair is done in a pair of pigtails reaching down almost to the ground. Her body is caked in dirt, as well as portions of her hair, not to mention the blood splattered around her. Her sword is noticeably broader than what he’s used to seeing. A large pauldron rests on the other shoulder. “So, you ain’t dead.” She states before she even turns around. “‘Cause you sure do sleep like you’re dead.”

A rather fearsome scowl adorns her face.

“Um…”

“Thank you?” She cuts him off, “Seriously, why are you even traveling?! A lumbering oaf could have strutted in and used a mace to beat you until you died!”

Harsh, much? “I’m looking for a relative. And yes, this is my first time traveling, so…”

“No shit!” Geez, for a woman who looks younger than him, she’s certainly vulgar… and did she really kill all of them on her own? “How are you even still alive?”

“Could you lay off on the insults?” He narrows his eyes.

“Did I get it through your thick skull about how lucky you were? If I hadn’t seen those idiots, you would have been strung up and gutted like a butchered pig!”

“...Bandits don’t do that.”

“Ignorant boy.” Ironic, coming from someone younger than him. “Why don’t  **you**  clear out a few bandits camps, then  **you**  can tell me that there aren’t any cannibals.” She takes a step forward, and Owain ends up taking a step back, she… certainly has a presence to her, “Listen, you’re obviously fresh, so let an experienced mercenary give you a few tips. First off, there is  **no**  safe place in Nohr. Nowhere! Not even Krakenburg can secure your life. Second, people are fuckin desperate here, you’ll be lucky if they just rob you of your coin.”

“I know that,” Doesn’t mean she has to swear like that, “People came into the nearby city with no coins, sometimes even clothes.”

She continues the very second he finishes, “Third, resources are tight, which includes food. You’d be lucky to find a butcher that has only fresh animal meat. But, there is a source of meat that can almost be absolutely guaranteed fresh, and do you know what that source of meat is?” A half-beat passes, and before Odin could say anything, “You’re looking at it right now.  **Us** , humans. They won’t care if you’re alive and screaming, these bandits don’t care about morals. If they don’t think it’s worth the effort to slit your throat, they’ll just throw you on the butcher’s block and cut you open right there. They’ll throw you into a pot alongside all the herbs and…”

“ **Shut-up!** ” Owain recoiled, “ **I get it!** ” His body trembles as he tries and fails to discard the imagery just presented to him by this clearly pissed-off woman…

But, if she’s describing it this vividly, then it must have actually happened. No! Don’t think about it.

“Took you long enough.” She looks him over, “Now, where the hell are you going?”

“I told you…” His voice lacks the earlier life. Honestly, who can remain calm after what she just told him?

“Yeah, family, relatives, whatever. You obviously need someone to hold your hand to make sure you arrive in one piece. So, where are we going?”

“...I doubt I have the gold to…”

“Idiot! I’m not a bandit! I’m a mercenary, and my father had the compassion to teach me," Apparently he hasn't taught her enough compassion... "that sometimes I need to help just to help!" By yelling and democratizing the person? "And right now, I see a new traveler with a huge bullseye on his back. I’m  **not**  letting you die. Keep your coin.”

“...I honestly don’t know where.” She looked ready to yell at him again, so he quickly added, “I’m following a magic spell. It will lead me to my father.”

“Of course it had to be some magical shit.” She crosses her arms… for someone so young, she certainly has the aura of a veteran soldier, “Go on then. Lead the way.” With her pressing him on he…

“What’s your name?”

“Selena. Yours?”

“Owa…” He pauses, “Odin.”

“Owa Odin? I feel sorry for whichever parent named  **you** .”

“It’s just Odin.” He corrects her, “I had a nickname, which is what I was about to say. Just call me Odin.” He’d say ‘Odin Dark’, but he has a feeling she’ll just yell at him again.

* * *

By the gods is Selena strict. Strict and vulgar. ‘Don’t eat that, you fool!’ ‘What the hell kinda campfire is that?!’ ‘No, not like that!’ And when his body was pushed to his limit, she showed off just how well trained  **she**  is. And… wow. The second night, she set up the entire camp herself. She pulled out an axe and chopped down a  **whole**  tree and dragged it back in  **three**  pieces, before continuing to chop it into smaller logs for the campfire. Then she made two smooth stumps for seats. She also made two wooden bowls and spoons, then threw some food into another wooden bowl, but this one had a layer of water underneath it to keep it from burning. After that, she poured the stew, then proceeded to burn the bowl she used to cook in.

And all of this was done in less than two hours. It’s like she has no end to her stamina.

But wait! There’s more! Because even that wasn’t enough to burn out her energy, as she then made a wooden dummy and started training! When he asked what did she go through, she responded with a quick, blunt, vulgar, and somewhat expected, ‘None of your damn business!’

Alright then. Perhaps from the outlook, he should have figured out she’s not much for conversation. She clearly means nothing but business. And for someone so young? Her father must have been the best if he’s trained her to be  **that**  good… no, great. Exceptional. No…

‘Chosen one’. That’s what Selena is. She’s a Chosen One, marked by the Dragon Gods to perform acts of seemingly impossible tasks. He nods to himself, satisfied with his own reasoning and…

“Get your ass up!” A clatter hits the ground as a wooden sword is thrown near him. “C’mon, stop bumming around.”

“Huh?” Knocked out of his own imagination, he is confused… to say the least.

“I’m gonna train your body. It’ll be easier for you to stay alive if you can at least deflect some idiot’s attacks!”

“...I’m not untrained, Selena. I know how to fight.” He sounds confident.

She only scowls, “Oh really? The daydreamer here knows how to fight? Alright then, spar with me then. I’ll floor you in less than a minute!”

“I… don’t doubt that. You did fight over a half a dozen bandits a few days ago. Not to mention…”

“And you can get that good if you get up and train. So, let’s go!”

Gods, how has she not attracted the attention of every single predator in the entire forest with her mouth? It’s almost like even the animals know to keep their distance.

* * *

Owa… Odin has never felt so exhausted in his life. Selena and him sparred for hours, and a good portion of that was her pointing out the many… many flaws in his stance. And still… and still that wasn’t enough for her. She’s  **still**  beating down that wooden dummy. The sun has almost set and she’s still going. She literally hasn’t stopped to rest since they woke up to start traveling. How can someone have so much energy to burn?

So, here he is, watching her cut so many more knicks into that one dummy. And while she is mainly using her sword, she also ends up using an axe, a lance, a dagger, and even a bow. However, only her bow is made of quality materials, everything else is simply made from wood.

“How long have you been training?” He asks, expecting another curt and rude…

“As soon as I could walk and talk.” She heaves a deep breath, before turning to him. Her body is absolutely drenched in sweat, like she just came out of a lake… a very stinky and pungent lake. “Had to.” Aaaand… right back to the dummy.

“Mother waited until I could read and write before I could train.”

She flinches. “...Must be nice.” He barely catches her saying.

“Are you illiterate?”

Another, more noticeable flinch, “What?! No! I meant having a mother there for you!” A pause and her voice drops to a mere whisper, “...and maybe a bit, yeah. Father always wanted me to be able to defend myself before learning how to read and write, but… he…” While he couldn’t actually see her face, he could’ve sworn that she started crying, as stifled as it was. “...Father…”

He snaps his mouth shut, as he feels it’d be a good idea to not even acknowledge this. So instead, he goes to his tomes, going over the incantations again and again. Perhaps… perhaps he should try to reach out and teach her how to read and write? If she won’t accept gold, then maybe the gift of literacy would be enough?

* * *

Selena and Odin were out of the forest within a day’s time. However, he had to apply some more of his mother’s blood to the gemstone, lest the enchantment run out and he loses his way. Selena would definitely  **not**  be happy about that.

And just like the days before, Selena seems to have no end to her energy. She’s always doing something.

The gemstone pulses.

“We’re close.” He says, instantly knowing what these pulses mean. He looks ahead in the direction of the magic, “In that cave.” Gods, his father must really be in deep if he’s living in a place like that.

“Oh great… a caveman.” She scoffs. “Well, c’mon then. Let’s get this over with.”

With the destination in sight, Selena takes the lead, and… whew. He was so used to being at least a few feet in front, but now that he can actually see her, she’s… wow. For a woman who is so focused on training and improving her strength, she actually has quite the feminine figure. He shakes his head, he’s a too young to think about this, right? Still, she…

“Wait!” Odin shouts, feeling another pulse, this one far more sinister. Without asking, Selena freezes mid-step. “Magical wards.” He can feel the pulses from them, but other than that?

“Well? Remove them, then!” Selena has stepped back since then.

“It isn’t that easy. It’ll…” And they’re gone.

“Well, gut my favorite cat and strewn its innards across the kitchen…” A single man walks out of the cave. He is wearing primarily black and dark purple-colored clothing. The biggest portion being a robe. His hair is snow white and… he has a necklace, just like Odin’s and Lissa’s. “I’m delighted to see you.”

“Father?” Odin asks.

“That’s what sons usually call their paternal elders.” He takes a few more steps out, “Aw, no big hug? Tearful reunion? You’re killing me here.”

“Father!” Odin runs up.

“Tch.” Selena scoffs, “Yep, there’s your son, I’m leaving.”

“Aw… aren’t you hungry?” He asks as he receives a huge hug from Odin. “You could stay for… a spell! Nyahahaha!”

“Got things to do.”

“Alright, your call, fireball.” Selena groans as she turns and leaves. “Now, little Owain… or should I call you Odin?”

“Huh? How did you know?”

“I can’t express how much it hurt me, you know.” He starts as he walks into the cave again, with Odin following, “Watching you grow up all of these years, but never able to do anything with you.” A pause, “The gemstones, son.” He supplies a moment later, “I only taught my love how to find me, I never taught her the rest of the things that can be done. For example, I whispered to you in your sleep and taught you all the Dark Spells you know.”

“You what?!”

“I also watched over you and Lissa. Oh! And then there were those nights where my wife really wanted to hear me, so…”

“Gods. I get it.”

“Nyahahaha, sorry. It’s just… I haven’t directly talked to either of you for so long. Honestly, being forced to simply watch as the years pass by.” He frowns for but a moment, before he smiles again… kinda like mother. “Anyway, you’re here. So, she told you about me?”

“You’re a criminal?”

“Thaaat’s right! I got a pretty high body count.” He seems to be completely unbothered by that, “It’s one of the first things I told her, y’know. On our first date, actually. She ordered a large salad, I got a plate of elk meat, and when the server left I told her that I killed a lot of people.”

“And she was fine with that?”

“Of course not! She spat out some of the wine she was drinking! Then she asked if I was going to kill her. So… so I said, only if you’re into that!” He starts laughing again.

What kind of twisted date is this? “That’s…” He can see why his mother didn’t go into details now.

“But yeah, anyway… since I was so open and honest with her, she looked past my bloodied hands, literally mind you, and fell in love with me. One full womb later and there you were! Oh, also had to cut you out of there.” Odin actually started to feel sick. “Told me she didn’t want another child, so I…”

“Father, please.” He pleads.

“Oh right, gotcha.” He mutters an incantation, “Forgot to activate the wards again.”

“It’s not that…” Odin sighs, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you, but I didn’t think you would be so…”

“Bloody? Explicit? Insane? Immoral? Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m aware of what I have done. Do I regret it? No.” His expression darkens, “I treat this as I did admitting things upfront to Lissa. I’m against the Crown. If you ever heard of Faceless randomly attacking villages, then that was me. If you heard of diseases and plagues killing people by the dozens, then that was me.”

“Wh-what? Why? Surely all of those villagers don’t deserve that!”

“Because it makes the King look useless. If his own soldiers can’t keep Nohr safe, then why should he have the support of anyone? I have a little crow feeding me information, and my efforts are causing uncertainty among his own council, but… but something keeps these important figures in check. I believe that he is using extremely potent Dark Magic to sway them to his favor.”

Odin stops himself from asking more. “I… need some time to think, father.”

“Spare bedroom is in the back, take a right at the cooking fire.” He casually supplies, “I got your favorite in the pot, but… let’s just say I’m not your mother when it comes to cooking.”

“Uh… I’m not that hungry right now, actually.” Odin is surprised he hasn’t already thrown up.

“There’s a curse for that.”

“I’ll… pass on that, too.” He takes a nervous step back, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, have a good sleep. Try not to dream of your own demise.”

Wow… Henry is really intense. He really is violent, no wait… Odin hasn’t seen actual violence, but it is clear he doesn’t really care for life, unless those lives are his family. Following his father’s instructions, he walks past the fire, and into a side room, where a single cot lies. Steadying his breathing, he lies down and tries so hard to calm himself to sleep.

* * *

Odin wakes up feeling tired. Fair enough, he knows he flipped around alot and… he feels a pain in his arm, and there’s a cloth wrapped around it, slightly blood-stained. Worried, he bolts up and hurries out, “Father! I…”

“Oh, don’t worry, I just needed a few vials.” He… Father just walked in and drained some blood from his own son?! “It wasn’t done out of malice. Nor was it a simple urge. Part of blood-fueled magic is the ability to augment someone’s body. Specifically, the body whose blood was taken.”

“That’s not it, why didn’t you just ask?”

“I was hoping to finish before you woke up.”

“Wait! You took blood from me while I slept  **and**  you were planning to cast a spell on me before I woke up?!” Now, now Odin is really worried. Maybe… maybe he should have stayed with mother?

“I know, I get it. You aren’t used to how I do things. Lissa would understand… you do remember how she didn’t hesitate even for the smallest of moments when she sliced into her own skin to activate the tracking spell, right?”

“Yeah, but she’s used to it! I just got here. This is all coming out of nowhere for me!” Odin sighs, “Alright, what’s the spell for?”

“Starting with the basics. Some physical boosting, better attunement for magic, superior senses.”

“Alright, if that’s the basics, then what’s the advanced stuff?”

“Well, you can target specific areas instead of having to do the entire body. The expert things, magic I rarely want to mess with, can even provide huge boosts under certain conditions… think of it like the magical version of adrenaline. I… only casted one of those so far. On me, of course. Don’t have any test subjects to potentially implode if I fail the cast.”

A pause, despite how disgusted Odin was yesterday, he finds himself morbidly entranced… like how he knows Dark Magic can take so much from him, but he uses it anyway. “Father? I’d like to learn more. Could you teach me how to cast blood-fueled spells?”

“Yup.” Henry easily accepts. “We’ll start tomorrow. But first! Some father-son bonding time!”

Odin was expecting a macabre event for the bonding, but… Henry just brought up some normal board games, a deck of cards, a pitcher of tea with two cups, and a number of tea-time cakes. “Lissa introduced me to all of this.” He states as he starts with the deck of cards. “I play with them every now and then. It’s a nice break from the constant potential death casting those spells cause.” He smiles.

“This does seem…”

“Girly?” Henry cuts him off, “Yeah, it does. But I don’t care. I enjoy this, and that’s all there is to it.”

“...Is that why you use Blood Magic?”

“Yep.” Henry shuffles the deck with ease, “Besides, gotta keep that fear instilled.”

“Even if all of Nohr wants you dead?”

“Are you saying you want me dead?” He quickly counters, that smile never leaving.

“What?! Of course not!”

“Alright then, not all of Nohr wants me dead. I’m not completely stone cold, son. I want the king dethroned, and once we get someone who knows their left from right, I’ll stop. Sure, my methods are cruel and unnecessarily violent, but it’s all I know. I’m giving it my all to chip away at the Crown.”

“Even at the cost of innocent lives?”

“It helps to think that there are a number of dark-hearted criminals in there, too.” Once more, Henry casually shrugs off the concept of murder.

* * *

Over the months, Odin Dark has grown used to his father’s antics, even accepting them. He won’t turn to murdering masses, but he will use the resources available to him. There has to be a better way to remove the King. But… his father has a point. There’s no way anyone can strut in and take him out, so it’d be easier to show Nohr that he can’t do anything for his own people, that the Nohrians either get a new king, or just leave Nohr completely.

He understands Henry’s line of thinking, but it doesn’t mean he has to approve of them.

Thankfully, father is also doesn’t force the magics he uses to cause these problems. If Odin wanted to learn how to summon Faceless, then great, Henry will be ready and willing. If he didn’t want to learn, that’s fine, there’s still plenty to learn. Dark spell by blood spell lessons come and go, and Odin slowly starts to rise to a level that is at least comparable to his father.

He doubts he’ll ever be as powerful as him, however…

Or even as skilled with a weapon as his mother.

No, Odin Dark is a combination of both. Deadly with a blade, skilled with magic. He will weave the two together to create a force otherwise unseen. Gaze upon him and tremble! His sword hand knows no bounds, his thirst for battle is second to none… at least, that is what he says if he being more dramatic. He’d frankly rather not fight everyone.

But, hey… it makes for a good novel.

Speaking of a novel, that is something Odin pursues in his spare time. He has taken to a quill and paper, and started the journeys of… Eudes Dark. He  **was**  going to use his name, but decided against it. His tale will be one of grandeur, one of high stakes, heroism, trials and feats. But, most importantly… it will be  **his**  idea.

“Heyo, son.” Henry called him out as he was mid-stroke. Oh, it’s alright if he makes a mistake…

There’s a curse for that.

Quickly removing the impurity, Odin rises, “Yes, fa…”

He’s bloody again. While this is a rather frequent occurrence, the difference this time is it’s probably his own blood… which also happens every now and then. “I’d suggest you double down and like, get under your bed or something.”

“...I don’t have a bed.” Odin shakes his head, “Wait, why?”

“Oh, you know. Someone just casually walked by and dispelled my wards, so…” Odin shivered… all of these months and he still can’t get around them. “Oh, and in case my innards get splattered across the walls, there’s a secret exit in your room.”

“...I know, I’ve seen the sign.”

“Nope! That’s the door that leads to a fake floor that has a bed of poisonous spikes at the bottom! The secret exit door is under your cot.”

Oh gods… it’s a good thing Odin never bothered going through it. “But, that’s only if things get bad?”

The cave shook, “Oh, it’s gonna get bad. So…” Henry hands him some vials of blood, “Some are yours, some are mine, some are Lissa’s. Alright? See you, love you, don’t go and do anything I wouldn’t do.” Henry nudges him on. “Knock knock!” He shouts, “Welcome to Death’s Door, please pardon the que! I’ll be sure to have you seated and gutted in a reasonable amount of time!”

“...You’re Henry?” A much younger, almost childish feminine voice replies. Odin stops as he got into the secret exit, and cracked it open just enough to know what’s going on. “I expected a grizzly old man by now.”

“One of the King’s elite? Would you like to get acquainted, girl?”

“Hm? No. I came here of my own volition. You’ve made a name for yourself. Let’s see… Weaver of Curses. He Who Removes Faces. Plague-Bearer…”

“Aw, come on. All of those are  **lame** . If you don’t mind, spread around that I’m the… Crow Cawler.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re Henry.” She scoffs, “Whatever, that’s not why I forced your wards off. You deal with complex Dark Magic, even dealing with and figuring out blood magic. I have a request.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a curse for whatever you need.” Odin could feel the tension in the air diffuse.

“As I’m sure you can tell, I do look young. However, this is only a side effect from an extremely potent Dark spell, one that I cannot counter…”

“And you want me to counter-curse it?”

“Exactly.”

“No can do.”

“Wh-what? You just…”

“Nyahahaha, just kidding. It might take me some time, but I can fix you right up. Worst case scenario, I’m gonna need like, an entire body’s worth of blood to force growth. Uh,  **your**  blood, that is.” He starts laughing, “Oh right. Come on out! She’s cool.”

“There’s someone else here?” Odin re-enters his room, closes the exit, and steps out.  The new face is, in fact, and extremely young girl. Not even a full grown teenager. Yet, at the same time, her magical aura almost overpowers Henry’s. “Um, hello?” She's wearing something similar to Henry, though a portion of the fabric is see-through. That, and there is a light-purple veil over her mouth.

“He’s my son.”

“Hmph.” She shrugs him off. “How much time is a while?”

“It’s all relative. I might be able to whip it up in a day, maybe a year, maybe after we all die, who knows? Hey, what’s your name, by the way?”

“...Nix.”

“Alright Nix, I’ll do what I can.” A few muttered incantations later, and his wards are back up, “...How are you with the more… unsavory spells?”

“No, I’m not summoning any Faceless, nor will I bring about a plague. I asked for your services, and that’s that.”

“Aw, how boring…” Henry looks between Nix and Odin, “Have fun, you two.” He walks away.

“Hmph.”

“I’m going to resume writing. Um… if you need anything…”

“I won’t.”

“Right, of course.” Odin makes his own quick departure.

* * *

Perhaps Odin should have seen it coming, but once Nix entered, she didn’t leave. So, she obviously knows the crimes Henry committed, and she understands that she’ll be branded one as well if she is seen anywhere near him. She tends to isolate herself from him and his father, with the only real contact being during dinner. Other than that, she only seemed to be weaving spells of her own. Spells… if father isn’t working on that counter-curse, then he is wreaking havoc on Nohr.

In other words, father-son time is gone.

It obviously hurts, but the two Dark Mages here are absolute powerhouses, what good would speaking out do? So, the most noise Odin makes is writing in his book, his novel.

His story.

Days pass by, as more and more travels are detailed, more problems, more challenges. Pain, blood, loss, gain, sometimes it veers completely off course, other times it reflects his current mood. However, it wouldn’t be nearly a year later before things truly fell apart.

* * *

A morning like any other. He wakes up, eats some food, then works on his own magic. Henry has already been weaving magic for hours, and Nix keeps to herself. She has yet to complain about the progress, and as far as he knows, hasn’t once asked how much Henry has finished.

It sends a chill through him that Henry is working this hard to cure a ‘side-effect’.

“Nyahahaha!” Henry’s laugh echoes through the cave. “Oh, good Nix, news… er. Good news, Nix.” Henry steps out of his personal work area.

“You’re finished?”

“Nope.” Nix narrows her eyes, “Well, if you take that phrase technically, then yes.”

“Don’t toy with me.”

Odin watches as Henry pulls out but a single small vial, “This is all I can do. It won’t reverse all of the damage done, but…”

“Even if I wait for longer?”

“Anymore and I’ll be digging my own grave.”

“...Then what about the blood magic?” Wow, she sounds desperate.

“Right… I didn’t mention how unlikely it is you’ll survive. Even disregarding the fact of how long it’ll take to get that much blood, changing a body that much is pretty much means you’re gonna die. I’m talking a good ninety-nine percent chance of death.”

“I see…” She sighs. “Then, thank you. For doing what you can, Henry.” She gently takes the vial from him, then…

“Have a mostly full glass of water, place no more than five drops of the cure in there, and drink. No more than three cups a day. Repeat until it’s all gone.”

“Understood.” She turns to leave, “Goodbye, Henry.” She didn’t even acknowledge Odin.

After deactivating his wards, Henry waves, “Have a good one!” Once she left the grounds, the wards go back up, “Now then, for the second half of that.”

“Father?” Odin asks.

“I’m no healer, but I’m gonna say I have a week or so.”

“Wh-what!?”

“I’m gonna die in a week or so.” He clarifies.

“No, I know what… that’s not what I meant! Did you really just give your life for that woman?”

He shrugs, “I made a mistake during the creation process. It’s why I can’t do anymore for her. I slipped up, and there went a chunk of my life force. I pretty much wrapped my life in paper and threw it in a fire.” A pause as Odin slowly comprehends what was just said, “Anyway, you should probably leave. You can’t dispel the wards, and they won’t go away just because I die. And son, let me tell you, all of those traps will leave a guy mangled beyond recognition.”

“You’re… dying?” He finally asks.

“Yep.”

“Father…”

“It’s all good.” He pats Odin on the shoulder, “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

“No! We… I can take you to mother and she can…”

“Nope. She can’t.” His face turns serious, “These are the dangers of Dark Magic. I’ve literally lost a piece of myself, something healing magic can’t fix. Now, you are going to leave, after that is your choice. Just know that I’ll love you, regardless.”

* * *

Odin closes the wooden case, re-arms the locking spell, and places it back under his bed. “Father…” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. So, what happened after he was forced out of his father’s death cave?

He traveled. He was following the tracking spell back to his mother, but something began interfering with it, and he had no idea where to go. So he wandered. Eventually he ended up in the one place he didn’t want to go to. The city surrounding Castle Krakenburg. Once there, he had held only one job before Prince Leo took him as a retainer.

He was a tutor for a young girl. She is a magical prodigy, and his chest filled with pride as he taught her the magical arts. She easily surpassed his expectation, both in efficiency in learning and the potency at which she casted. Not only that, but she was completely enthralled with the idea of Chosen Ones. He is Odin Dark… she is Ophelia Dusk.

They were close friends, he rejoiced in the idea of spending more time with this young prodigy. Then… then one day it was just gone. He was fired. The mother was paralyzed from the waist down, and they blamed him for not teaching Ophelia proper restraint.

After that? Before the week ended, Prince Leo recruited him, and now here he is. What happened to his mother? Ophelia Dusk? Selena? Even Nix?

“We’re moving out, Odin. Let’s go.” Lord Leo’s voice sounds out from outside his room. “Double-time, to the Northern Castle.”

“On my way.” He quickly replies. The Northern Castle… there is a man named Corrin there, a younger brother to Leo… or so he’s told. He never got to see the man himself. It’s almost like Leo is ashamed of his own choices in retainers. Sighing, he rises and prepares for another trip.

“Turn that frown upside down!” He mimics Lissa’s voice for comfort, “Show that you can be happy, a good smile dispels many bad things!” He chuckles, a small smile forming.

Just another day in Lord Leo’s service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, where to start? Henry's crimes? Lissa swinging around a battle-axe? Selena's extra-prickly show-casing? Nix's brief appearance? Or even clarifying that Odin did, in fact, tutor Ophelia?
> 
> Personally, I like how Selena came out. Sure, she sounds unreasonably rude, but this is after Gregor's assassination and before she met Laslow. Back then, she was only working to keep living, she made a name for herself by getting stuff done, not by sugar-coating words.


	7. The Dreaded 'Wing Clipper'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright… this isn't a 'mega' chapter like the others, and to go a bit further than that, I doubt I'll have anymore of those. I might be able to pull one off for a certain other character, but other than that, it's done with. Expect the more 'standard' length chapters from now on.
> 
> Oh, and the subject of expecting... Let's see, I'm still wanting to cover: Felicia's viewpoint of events in 'Confined'. The time that lead up to Elise realizing what she felt for Corrin was love during her visits to the Northern Castle. Azura's sorta new backstory... there's no Valla, remember! A bit on Mikoto's and Arete's kinship. Some more Water Tribe stuff. Wrapping up Laslow and his eventual reunion with his mother. Selena's and Beruka's reintroduction into the main story, because they are making a 'SSS' entrance... Devil May Cry reference, anyone? Selena's closing bit with making peace with her mother. An extremely feisty bit with Rinkah waaaaaay later down the fic. I... think that's it? At least for now.
> 
> Anyway, pardon if the expectation for every side-story chapter in this fic was to be huge.
> 
> Now then, I know Selena came off as probably excessively bitchy last chapter, but don't forget that her father was just assassinated within the last few months. She's pushing away her grief by working as a mercenary. Sure, she might let her emotional guard down at night, but other than that, she's keeping it bottled in. She won't get that proper reprieve until… soon, actually. I'll say this now, by the time she makes her next entrance in 'Confined', Selena will be a whole lot more mellowed out. Still a bit prickly, mind you, but much more stable.

****Hoshido holds many beauties, from its seemingly endless grass and tree plains, to the pristine lakes, the constant but gentle sunshine. Some may tend to their farms, others bask in the sunlight and refresh in the gentle breeze…

As for Princess Hinoka? There's no better time than that spent with family. She has the best parents, the King and Queen of Hoshido. An older brother named Ryoma, two little brothers, Corrin and Takumi, with the latter being just a year younger, and she was even blessed with a younger sister recently, Sakura. Ryoma is an almost exact copy of King Sumeragi, right down to how they fight. Give them the same armor set, and it wouldn't be too strange to get them confused.

Hinoka occasionally takes to the naginata, but she does try and focus on the more Princess-related duties. It isn't always easy… especially when there are reports of Faceless attacking Hoshido's towns. Takumi practices daily with the bow, nearly on par with how often Ryoma and Sumeragi spar with their katanas.

Corrin… he's reserved. He has shown some interest in the sword, but he ultimately denies any actual training. It's clear he dislikes any sort of fighting. Sakura found her calling in the Festals, she frequently attends the Shrine Maiden classes.

Due to both her little sister and slightly older little brother's tendency to avoid fights, Hinoka takes it upon herself to cover them. Nothing hurts more than the mere thought of any of her family being… well, hurt.

Which is why she  **tries**  to do more of the Princess duties. She tends to focus on the naginata classes. She's had a fascination with Pegasi for a long time, so it's something she aspires towards. She wants to be one of the Pegasus Knights. However, what she didn't know then that this decision would have lead to one of the extreme 'wake-up' moments of her life. A moment that nearly costed her own life, but of course she did survive. She did live on.

Because she fought for something she believes in.

* * *

Hinoka held her naginata high as she readied it for the upcoming spar. Her opponent was none other than Subaki, another Pegasus Knight in training. He is the only other one who can even hold a candle to her own skill. They both pursued this path, if for different reasons. Subaki chose this because he held the previous Pegasus Knight leader, Cordelia, on a pedestal. She was perfect in all ways, so he strove for the same.

Hinoka also held Cordelia in high regards, but it wasn't because of her typically praised 'perfection'. It was because of her dedication to protect Hoshido. She'd travel the entire land, fighting off bandits, Faceless, and lending a hand to those in need.  **That**  is what Hinoka strove for. But, there was, in fact, one more reason she trained so hard.

Corrin.

She had been training in the yard when her mother, the Queen, brought the family together. She can still clearly remember how distressed Mikoto was then. Her father, the King, as well as her slightly older little brother, Corrin, alongside a number of royal guards, traveled across Hoshido to have a much needed peace meeting with the King of Nohr. Tensions have been rising over the years, but it seemed he was finally ready to reach out.

…

Mother received a message. She told them that the peace meeting was nothing more than an ambush. King Sumeragi had been murdered, the royal guards ruthlessly killed… and Corrin was taken. Hinoka grits her teeth as the tears threaten to fall again… no. Not anymore. She refuses to cry, she needs to be stronger. "Princess Hinoka? Are you ready?" Subaki's voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, I am." She nods, reading her naginata. "Hey, you said you trained to be perfect like Cordelia, right?" She asks as they exchange the first set of blows.

"Of course, Lady Hinoka. She's a true inspiration… and if I remember right, you wanted to train so you could protect everyone."

"...I should've started sooner." She demeans herself. "Subaki… what would you do… if you did accomplish complete perfection? What would you use it for?"

"You might think the answer to be…" He trails off.

"C'mon, you have no problem speaking up about what I'm doing wrong. So, what would you do?"

"If I did accomplish true perfection? I'd use those skills to protect the Royal family. I want to serve as a retainer."

Satisfied Hinoka nods. "Well, I can say I won't be asking for another person just like me to be my retainer." A pause, "Subaki, I don't meant to sway your choice… but I'd appreciate it if you would be my little sister's retainer."

"Ah, Lady Sakura, correct?" He asks, "If I may ask, why her?"

"Well… Big brother Ryoma already has his two and Takumi is being… stubborn about the subject. He deflects anyone asking him. He wants to find his retainers himself. As for Sakura? I want someone to be there for her, someone like me. We're both aiming to be Sky Knights, we both have red hair, we're both extremely skilled. I think she would take to you quicker if she had someone to remind her of family."

"I can understand your reasoning, Lady Hinoka… very well! I'll strive and become Lady Sakura's retainer."

She smiles, "Thank you."

"Shall we resume our spar?"

"You bet… I'm  **not**  going down this time!"

* * *

Hinoka didn't always have the best ideas, sometimes her brashness gets her into hot water really quickly. She has made a habit of sorts. Ever since she truly became a Sky Knight, she started focusing on one thing.

Saving her little brother.

She'd always leave at night, flying against the crispy cold Hoshidan air, towards the bitter cold of Nohr. However, she also had to keep turning around, not because of nerves or uncertainty, but… it always seemed as if there were dozens of wyvern riders lined up near the border.

Every. Single. Time.

Even the best of the Sky Knights couldn't pull off a number difference that large.

Her 'little' excursions didn't stay unnoticed, unfortunately… and when she was caught, she got an earful from her mother.  _"We've already lost Corrin. Daughter, attempting this alone is throwing your life away. Haven't we already lost too much?!"_

_"But, mother… you told me that if I fought for what I truly believed in, that I wouldn't lose."_

_"Determination can only get you so far. So please, stop traveling out like this."_

Hinoka… she couldn't keep a promise like that. So, she  **lied**  and told mother she'd stop. Well, it's a partial lie. This is the last night, Hinoka told herself. She had already planned it before that talk, and she wanted to see it through. If… if she couldn't rescue Corrin this time, then she'd wait for a better opportunity.

So after triple-checking that everything is in place, she mounts her Pegasus once more, "One more time, girl. This is going to be the one… I know it. It  **has**  to be." Her mount quietly whinnied. "Thatta girl… now, let's go!"

Once more, Hinoka and her Pegasus soared the night sky, determination filling her entire being.

…

She was right. The Wyvern riders seem to have finally exhausted themselves. There's an opening! Smiling, she presses on, almost instantly feeling just how much  **colder**  it is in Nohr. Hinoka's eyes scan the country, looking first for a castle, since that is where he has to be. This is the only true downside to nighttime, she can't see as far and…

"Oh my." An admittedly sultry voice sounds out from behind her, "So, I'm assuming you are the 'fiery Sky Knight' that keeps flying around the border?"

A sense of power sends shivers up her spine and she turns around, expecting a squad of Wyvern Riders, but nope. A single woman rides a single wyvern. Her Nohrian armor shines in the night, and she has a massive battle-axe strapped to her back. On top of that, she has a large amount of hair flowing around her. It looks like a really dark purple. "Heh, only one? You've made a mistake, Nohrian."

"Hm?" She tilts her head, "Ah, I see. Then you haven't heard of my reputation then, girl." Her wyvern screeches, "I've cleaved open more Sky Knights than the number of Wyvern Riders that guard the border."

...That does sound familiar, but… "That won't happen to me." Hinoka stands her ground, readying her Guard Naginata. "I'm here to rescue someone dear to me, and I  **won't be stopped**!"

"Hm… I see." She unsheathes her battle-axe. "Well, I hope you put up a good fight, then. It gets dull, being able to swoop in and decapitate these Pegasi, or cleave the beast's body in half." Hinoka gulped… surely she's exaggerating? Wait… why does killing techniques like that sound familiar? This woman laughs, "But, at the very least, my precious wyvern has had so much to eat…" Even in the night sky, she can make out a smile, "So, be a good girl and be a strong fighter… or turn around and leave, before I sic my wyvern on your Pegasus… and you."

"Pretty confident. I'm better than any other one you fought." Hinoka's Pegasus neighs.

"We'll see… darling." Her wyvern screeches. "Besides, you're not the only one fighting for someone dear." She smiles, yet before Hinoka could even ponder on it, the woman charged her, battle-axe raised high. It was probably only due to a Pegasus's innately higher movement that Hinoka avoided it…

She's a lot faster than she looks. Hinoka could have easily died right there. Shaking her head and steeling her nerves, she swoops in, naginata in a more defensive position, at least until she's within a good strike distance. Her weapon of choice deflects a heavy-handed axe strike…

She's fast  **and** strong!

Scowling, Hinoka lands a single strike on her armor, which is actually strong enough to… it's cracked? Taking a half-second glance, she can see that this woman's armor is cracked and damaged in a number of spots, of course though, it doesn't help that she has a sizeable cleavage that prevents armor from covering it.

"Ooo, this is fun…" She  **laughs** , "Come, girl. Fight me! So that I may rain your Hoshidan blood in the name of my  **dear little brother**!"

"You're… spilling blood for family? Are you also seeking out fights?" Hinoka asks as she deflects another strike, "That's… wrong!"

"Would you stand aside while enemies slaughter your friends?!" She dodges Hinoka's next strike, only to miss her own.

"Of course not! But that also doesn't mean you should fly around and killing so many! Besides, it's  **Nohr's**  hostility is causing the problems!" She lands a second strike… and she saw a glimpse of just how tired this woman is. It's like she's been missing days of sleep. "And I will overcome you, so that I can save  **my little brother**!"

A single chuckle, "Oh? Is that so?" This woman lands her first strike… and Hinoka grunts. Thankfully it was a glancing blow… any more and she just might have lost all use in her right arm. "Oh, this is wonderful…" She chuckles. "I've never had anyone stand up to me  **this**  long!"

"You're a bloodthirsty maniac!" Hinoka shouts.

The woman frowns, "I'll be whatever I have to be for my precious little brother and sister…" She then had the nerve to  **tut**  her! "Not that a Hoshidan would understand. How nice it must be, to live a life of peace."

Hinoka restarts her attack, "Nohrians deserve their conflict!  **Your**  king killed ours in cold blood! An ambush, of all things!" Another strike on this unreasonably strong Wyvern Rider. The woman's mouth opens for a moment, but then closes, instead opting to lash out with an attack of her own… so close,  **too close**. How is she still that fast? How much stamina does she possess?

Strike after strike is either deflected or dodged, neither giving any ground up. Hinoka, despite having the innate problem of fighting axe with naginata, had one thing pushing her above all else. She's fighting for something she truly wants, for someone she believes that she can save.

She  **will**  save Corrin!

"Alright, here we go!" Hinoka mutters, before pulling her Pegasus around for a quick charging slash. It seemed as if this woman wasn't expecting it… or perhaps she was finally getting too tired to keep up properly, but either way Hinoka landed her first major blow against this woman. A sizable portion of her armor was shredded off and she began freely bleeding.

"Fire!" Wait, what? Hinoka was blindsided by a fireball, it surprised her enough that she lost some of her grip on her Pegasus's reigns. If that wasn't bad enough, the woman got her first major strike in, slicing into Hinoka's back. "Hmph." Did… did she intentionally take that hit? "Well my dear… I suppose this is it." Hinoka couldn't fully turn around as she saw the axe, quite literally, come down on her. Eyes widened, heart rate at an all-time high, she did something she hadn't fell victim in years…

She panicked.

The combination of that, and her fresh back wound prevented her from being fully able to bring her Guard Naginata up. So, this really was it. Dying not to an entire Wyvern Rider squad, but a single woman. One seemingly and impossibly strong woman. Was her resolve not strong enough? Was all that training for nothing? Hinoka barely raised her favored weapon by a few inches before it was done.

…

And nothing.

"Perfect timing!" Wait, she knows that voice. She opened her eyes to see none other than Subaki, Dual Naginata in hand, blocking this woman's axe.

"Hm? Another one?" Is how the woman responded.

"S-Subaki?" How did he know she… no, it didn't matter. All that mattered is he was here, that he was able to keep her head from being split open.

"I must say, milady." Subaki almost casually states as the woman pulled her axe back, readying another strike… but he managed to get a slash in, "You  **are**  getting rather predictable."

"Milady?" The woman echoes… then lets out a small laugh, "Ah, that would explain why I haven't been able to chop off your precious Pegasus's head… or wing."

Then it clicked, a Wyvern Rider whose main killing method is decapitating Pegasi heads, causing Sky Knights to fall to their deaths? She's… she's the reason why the Sky Knight recruit number has dropped so much. Hinoka remembers how some of the other ones outright stopped training to be a Sky Knight. The horror stories of those who survived her axe are terrible. How this 'monster' could fight off an entire squad by herself. To be honest, Hinoka never could imagine such a force, it seemed impossible… the Sky Knights that did manage to flee this force called it the 'Wing Clipper'. They almost made it sound like a ghost story told around a campfire...

But, here she is. Fighting against the very one who sent countless Hoshidans to their deaths. It… it made sense why she's so powerful. She must have fought against enough Sky Knights to know all of their ins and outs. "It's all me!" Subaki announces as he swoops in for a quick strike, enough to where this woman recoils.

And now this Pegasi killer is finally going down! If… if she does, Hinoka can only imagine the morale boost for Sky Knight recruits. In fact, they could probably regain those lost numbers, they could have enough to get their original number back. Grimacing from her open back wound, Hinoka joins Subaki, wanting to end this woman's life.

"Target acquired." She hears this flat voice say, and it was probably only due to luck itself that she turned in time for this new threat. Another woman, but this one's face is blank, light blue hair, her attire is almost all black, but her armor also seemed stronger than most. "My liege…"

"Aw, my darling Beruka." The purple-hair woman  **coos**. "You didn't have to come all the way up here."

"..." A pause, "I was concerned." She certainly doesn't sound too worried, "I've been watching, you're lacking days of sleep. I couldn't sit idly by this time… even if you did order it." Beruka rears another strike, and Hinoka hears a distant crack as her Guard Naginata starts to give in to the damage it tanked so far. "I'll accept whatever punishment that comes from my disobedience… but I refuse to let you die!" Another full-powered strike from her, and Hinoka's weapon of choice finally gave in, it was split in half.

"Milady…" She hears Subaki start as another Dual Naginata appears as if from nowhere. "I had a feeling you'd need a weapon." The new weapon quickly reaches its way into her hands, just enough time to allow her to block the incoming death strike. Hinoka repays it with her own strike, cutting a gash into her armor.

Beruka didn't even gasp in pain. Instead she went for another strike and… the purple-hair woman grunted. "Watch and learn!" Subaki shouts as he goes for what is sure to be the final blow… had Beruka not tossed a spare axe at his naginata, enough to keep him from striking.

"My liege, I'd advise you retreat to recover. Your wounds need immediate treatment. I can…"

" **We're**  leaving." She interrupts. "Fire!" She casts, if only to keep Subaki from attempting another blow. The woman, a Royal, Hinoka assumes, then flies past her… "I'll remember you, girl." One glare later, and she leaves with Beruka.

"Milady!" Subaki calls her out, as she suddenly felt a wave of magic hit her back.

"...You can heal?" Since when could he do that?

"Not very well, but yes." He admits. "I don't have the proper training yet, but it's enough to cover up some wounds." A short pause, "Shall we leave?"

Nodding, Hinoka turns around, "...I'll remember you, too." She mutters, then looks at Subaki as they started flying, "How did you know? And… why did you leave my little sister behind?"

"My liege asked me to keep an eye on you." ...Sakura did that? "Milady, with all due respect, you aren't as sneaky as you think you are."

"You knew?" She asked, "I made sure to cover up my attempts."

"Milady, you can cover up all of the evidence you want… but you still can't leave without your Pegasus." He smiles, "Once I noticed she wasn't there, I gathered my things and flew towards Nohr, since I assumed that's where you were headed." In the distance, Hinoka could see the rising sun, "And if I may be so bold to ask… please, don't continue with this reckless behavior, okay? I understand how much rescuing Lord Corrin means to you, but also don't forget that your actions are affecting all of us, too. My liege can't sleep properly without some herbal remedy… she's that concerned with your well-being."

Now  **that**  got to her, "My little sister… gods. I…" She was costing her sleep. "I'm so sorry…" Deflated, she nods, "Alright. I understand. I'll… wait." As Castle Shirasagi comes into view, Hinoka sighs. "I'll save… no.  **We'll**  save you one day, little brother… all of us. We'll bring you home and we can be a whole family again…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand… there it is. Hinoka and Subaki, has in fact, met Camilla… er, 'Wing Clipper' before Camilla's next appearance in 'Confined'. So… who's guessing that the first contact is going to be intense?


	8. From Needles to Naginatas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Oboro!
> 
> See, I was working on a Felicia's and Elise's day off, which happens on the latest chapter and next chapter of 'Confined', but then my mind was all like, "Hey, I got an idea for Oboro. Do that instead!"

Tailoring is a fairly simple business. Cloths, needles, designs. It's all things that seem to have come to a young dark-blue hair girl. She lives a modest life. Not really 'rich', but by no means poor. I  the middle, a fair balance. Her parents run a highly successful custom clothing traveling store.

And this girl, by all means, intends to follow in their footsteps… er, needlework.

A strong determination and masterful teachers allowed the girl to reach high levels of skill. Not enough to match her parents', but… she's still young, she has time to learn.

She just sometimes they could stay in a village for more than a few months at a time. It's that 'painful' amount of time. Long enough to establish a presence, to make friends… short enough to really sit down and get to know the others. Sure, names and faces don't leave her that easily… an important trait on its own, since there are a number of returning customers that the business gets, but…

Had she the chance, this girl would set up shop in a single town… preferably somewhere large. The one 'I wish' strand would be around Castle Shirasagi.

However, even as young as she is… she understands that such a personalized business like her family's can't really stay in one spot.

…

This girl wouldn't be able to have her wishes granted, there is no 'happily ever after'. All it will take is one customer from the 'other side', Nohr. One ambush. In that one moment, any great dream she had would be turned into an equally violent nightmare. Love to hate. Passion to vengeance. Smiles to scowls. Needles to naginatas. Tailor to Spear Fighter.

This girl's name is Oboro.

\-------------------------

It was that time again. The time where Oboro had to bid her farewells to the villagers. The time where her family had to resume travelling for another bulk of orders. It hurts  **everytime** , with the only solace being the fact that the next village they would stop at would be another chance for more friends.

…

Friends.

Roughly one year ago, about five villages before this one. Oboro distinctly remembers an almost annoyingly vocal boy. He was participating in a katana competition, set up by him. He was having the time of his life, too. Nothing in his form or attitude suggested he was enjoying the fight itself, but rather the people he fought  **with** .

Hinata, a brown hair boy, constantly smiling. His hair… needed work. Badly.

About seven months ago… three villages? Oboro met another distinguished villager. Unlike Hinata, won was clearly skilled in the katana, this man trained in the naginata… alone. Red hair, which was thankfully properly groomed. She only saw him because she happened to see him, not so sneakily, leaving the village grounds.

One night, she followed his route, seeing as he constantly berated himself for 'failing the basics'. He spent hours going over one move. Then he spent hours on another one move. It wasn’t until he thought it ‘perfect’ before he moved on. The following day, she decided to get his name… ‘out of interest’. Subaki.

Three months ago, two villages. Oboro met a very shy and reserved girl named Mozu. Unlike the other two ‘noticeable’ people, Mozu held no skill in weapons… for battles, that is. This girl brought an entire  **bear** to the village, on her own. This little, shaking, shy girl… killed a bear by herself! Other than that, though, she’s pretty ‘normal’.

And now the latest village, the one she’s about to leave. Another brown hair, though this one is darker… as well as sticking out as if struck with some electric spell. This one… was very sharp-tongued… witty. This man’s name is Azama. Honestly though, other than that, he was just kinda… there. Though, for whatever reason, he just stook out. Like his hair.

“It’s time to go, daughter.” Her mother places a gentle hand on her shoulder, a sort of sad smile on her face. She knows how much it pains Oboro to leave behind  **another** group of friends.

“...I know, mother.” Taking one last look out into the village, she turns away… but not before she manages to make eye contact with wild-hair Azama. He has a solemn expression of his own and for once, he doesn’t appear to be ready to make a snide remark. “I’ll see you later, Azama!” She calls out, knowing how much of a lie that will probably be. The same one she told the others. Still, it’s all she has to…

“We will, won’t we?” He returns with such a confidence, bolstered by a smile. “It won’t be anytime soon, but we will, Oboro.”

…

She holds that statement closer than she probably should.

\--------------------------------------------------

About four horses, two carts, three people. Two horses pulling one cart, two pulling the other. The first cart has the family, the second holds the tailoring goods. The first cart is also more for Oboro. Children’s toys, paintings, some clothes that she’ll probably outgrow in a few weeks, some clothes that she’s too small for right now. And one corner dedicated to the gifts she has gotten, the ‘memory’ corner. Kindness tends to be repaid in kindness, her smiles and time spent with the various villagers has been returned with gifts. These gifts are usually wrapped and preserved, as she refuses to let them get damaged.

Of course, that can’t apply to everything, like how Mozu also gave her a basket of freshly picked fruit and some slices of pork and bear meats.

However, as much as she holds this corner dear, it’s a bittersweet spot. Sweet for the memories she has made, the friends she met. Bitter knowing she’ll probably never see them again. A tinge of sour for the possibility of the fact that she just might end up forgetting. Somehow, that last bit scares her the most. She doesn’t want to forget them.

Shaking her head, she reaches for her sewing kit, opting to pass the time with practicing, rather than succumbing to the sorrow again. “Ngh…” And just like how sorrow always threatens to take over on the first few days of leaving, so does her concentration always falter. Once again, she’s pricked her finger with the needle.

“Daughter?” Her mother steps through the moderately sized window between the front and the cart itself, a small first-aid kit on hand. See, that’s how easily Oboro can be predicted. Her mother  **knew** she would try to start sewing, and she  **knew** she would prick herself. “I’m so sorry.” And Oboro  **knew** she would apologize, “You’ll make more friends at the next village, you always do.” The same statements, everytime, “You’re such a sweet young girl. It’s no wonder so many want to spend time with you.”  **Everytime** .

Sameness is returned with sameness, “I just want to settle in one village, one town. I’m tired of always losing the friends I made.” Her usually smiling face is adorned with a frown, “It’s never long enough. Just enough to get to sorta know them… then we’re leaving.”

“Shh… don’t cry.” Her mother cups Oboro’s cheeks, a gentle smile. Her own hair has been let down. A deep, dark blue, just like what Oboro inherited. Waves of blue… deeper than the ocean blue. Or, so she’s been told. Oboro has never seen the ocean for herself. Supposedly, it’s as endless as the sky above their heads.

Alright, so she does have another dream. Aside from wanting to stay in one place, she also always wanted to see the sea for herself. Waves that churn the waters, the smell of the ocean… salt and freshness. “Mother?” She asks once her own tiny river of tears has left her. “Can you tell me about it again? The ocean?”

She gives her a beautiful smile, “Of course, oh, let’s see…” She hums. Despite having told Oboro all she knows several times, the daughter never seems to tire of it. “I suppose I should start with the part that most people have the hardest time believing… the vastness of the ocean. The simplest way to explain it is imagining the sky, but it’s located below our feet, rather than above our heads. If you ever board a boat and you’re in the ocean, you can reach so many points where no matter where you look, no matter how high of a vantage point you get, all you see is the ocean. A seemingly infinite source of deep blue, peppered with white sea-foam, and within the depths lives an equally uncountable amount of underwater creatures. Majestic dolphins, fish that can leap out of the water higher than the ship itself…” Oboro single-mindly listened to her mother, alongside widened eyes… trying and failing to properly imagine it herself.

\----------------------------------------------------

Oboro has helped set up camp for the night, as usual. It’s nothing extravagant, just two tents and a pseudo-stable for the horses, and lastly, two tarps for the carts. The campfire brought their stew to a boil as father looked over the map and mother counted over their supplies once again. Oboro was splitting her time between her sewing lessons and making sure the stew comes out right. Though, to be technical, her mind was also busy re-imagining the scenery her mother provided her with… the ocean. Oboro’s current design was of a dark blue, with thin white lines that curved up and down. She looks up, followed by actually getting up to stir the stew some, lest it boil over.

It’s a basic meat and vegetable combination, the food that would spoil first. After this, they would switch over to the drier, less flavorful foods. As such, Oboro and her family is sure to savor the flavor while they can. “Mother. Father. Dinner’s ready!” She nearly sings as she grabs the bowls and spoons.

“Go on ahead, I’m almost finished.” Her mother responded. “I’m on the last section…”

“I’ve almost finished drawing our route…” Her father supplied.

The frown returns as Oboro uses the ladle to get her portion. Sameness is matched with sameness. The first few nights is always like this. Oboro gets more time with her parents when they’re traveling. In the village? They’re busy with work orders. In camp? They’re going over what is going to be done later. In the cart? Either her mother or father visits her.

Tailoring may be ‘simple’, but ‘simple’ doesn’t always mean ‘easy’.

Oboro idly stirs her stew with the spoon, before taking a single sip of the broth. It tastes duller right now. As long as her parents are busy, everything tastes blander. It’s probably why she’s so adamant about making friends. If she makes friends, she can spend time with them… if she spends time with them, maybe she’ll be invited over for a meal.

If she’s invited over for a meal, then she can spend time with a family that doesn’t have to constantly move… she can re-experience being in a ‘full’ family.

Her small rivers of tears return. Gods, she loves her parents, she loves the sights she sees, the things she does, but it can be really hard on someone so young, to continuously travel. She wants to settle in a town so moving is never an issue. She wants to settle so there will be those time where work orders are scarce and she can have her parents to herself.

Oboro takes another spoonful of stew, this time with a chunk of beef accompanying it. Bland… again. Still, she needs to eat, so she downs the stew with a reluctance. She then looks around. Mother, despite being ‘almost done’, is still quite invested in her counting. Father is no different. Oboro is left alone at the dinner scene, again.

Kindness is repaid with kindness. Happiness gives happiness. Sameness is returned with sameness.

\------------------------------------------------------

Oboro wakes up before dawn, and she beings packing her things up now. Another day of traveling. Further away from the last village, closer to the next. More friends she’ll hold dear for a time, before it’s time to move on… again.

With an efficiency that can only be gained from repetition, Oboro breaks down her tent on her own in minutes. Despite not having trained in weapons, this form of labor has given her strength of her own. Sure, she’s not ‘built’ by any means, but if she had to, she could probably dish out a killer right hook.

Carrying her bagged tent over to the second cart, she returns to her little spot in the first cart. She then goes to her ‘memory’ spot. Clear wrap covers them, so she can carefully pick them up to look over. The latest one, courtesy of Azama, is a lockbox. A lockbox without a key… no, wait, that’s wrong. Azama claims that the key can be found ‘within inner peace’. She just tossed it as another one of his sharp-tongue comments. She’s probably right, too. Still, it gets wrapped all the same.

Subaki… well, the two didn’t actually spend enough to time to become friends, as the man was far too focused on becoming ‘perfect’. Which, to be honest, means he’s also really just pushing everything else aside for that.

Hinata gave her a set of bands. Some for her head, some for her wrists, some for her waist. Sure, she  **could** make some herself, but there’s a certain… feeling to having something gifted. If she wasn’t so adamant about keeping things preserved, then she would probably wear them… or use them.

However, she also resolved that if she were to ever meet one of her friends again, then she would be wearing whatever or using whatever she’s been gifted.

“Are you ready, darling?” Mother asks as she looks into the cart. Oboro silently nods, looking away as to avoid her seeing the tears. “We’ll be stopping at an outpost at the border of Hoshido and Nohr. We’re getting a special shipment… some of Hoshido’s finer cloths for Nohr’s finer cloths.” Mother sounds excited…

More excited than Oboro sharing her new set of friends.

“Okay, mother.” Oh, the pains Oboro can experience. Soon after, the bumps kick in and the cart moves. Once again, Oboro is left to relative silence, her thoughts are providing her with more noise than the sounds around her. She looks at her sewing kit, the ‘memory’ spot, and the cart around her. She decides that she really isn’t in the mood for anything, so she lies her head down onto the bench and closes her eyes.

Hopefully her dreams can provide her with more happiness than she has right now.

\--------------------------------------

By the time Oboro wakes up, the carts have stopped and they have arrived at this outpost. She wipes the trail of drool from her mouth, before getting up. The first few days always make her so sleepy. Rubbing her eyes, she stretches, yawns, and walks out. And one of the first things she notice? Just how  **different** Nohr and Hoshido are. Looking back, she can see the colorful scenary, rays of light, and such… ‘goodness’. Turning around, the skies turn instantly grey, the areas ahead are grey, and it’s as dull as the food she’s been eating since they left the village.

Oboro decides in that moment, that she doesn’t like Nohr.

Her parents have already taken to conversing with a group of people… instead of waking up their daughter. Perhaps they hoped that they could have struck a deal and return before she woke up? Oboro can’t decide what’s worse, that very thought, or actually seeing them putting business first. Then… then she catches eye contact of a mountain of a man.

This single man stands like a tower above the rest. Darkened skin, blonde hair, and an aura of ‘protectiveness’. She looks at him, he glances at her. Compared to the other guards, he doesn’t seem… ‘mean’. Sure, he looks the part, but he doesn’t ‘feel’ the part. So, she does what any younger person would do when seeing someone who seems friendly…

She approaches him.

Being the stoic guard he is, he acknowledges her with not much more than a grunt. “Hey there!” Oboro greets with a high amount of enthusiasm as she does whenever she wants to make a friend. “My name is Oboro, what’s yours?”

The other guards glance at the massive man, “Benny.” He quickly replies. “And I’m very busy, please, go along.”

…

He said please. Not ‘get out of here’ or ‘scram’, but ‘please, go along’. She looks at the other guards, who seem used to his gentleness. “Oh… okay.” She nods, understanding. “Well, when is your shift over?”

Which leaves him surprised, the stern ‘guard face’ is gone. “I still have several hours.”

“Alright!” She exclaims, just getting a certain ‘good’ feeling about this one. Gods know that the last place she would make a friend is at the border… a guard. “If I’m still here, would you like to talk?”

“...You don’t find me intimidating?” Benny asks.

“Huh? Well, you ‘look’ like you mean business, but… let’s just say I have a good judge of character, and you seem like a pretty nice guy. And aren’t I right? You, a guard, politely asked me to leave, you even shared your name and your shift time!” She quickly explains. “So, I think you’re pretty nice.”

“I see.” He nods. “Very well, Oboro. If you’re still here, then I’ll share some of my time.” He smiles.

She smiles.

Kindness is repaid with kindness.

\--------------------------------------------------

Her parents’ clients are late…  **really** late. Father is slowly losing his patience, mother does her best to keep a good demeanor up.

Oboro is spending her time with Benny.

He doesn’t talk much, but she’s liking his presence. Sure, the ‘conversation’ is almost all supplied by Oboro, but there’s a sort of cathartic relief to be the one ranting to someone who just… listens. “...then there was the time where I came home from the temporary school with a brand new dress, but as I was walking back, there were a group of children playing around, throwing dirt and stuff. Then this one kid ended up throwing this  **huge** clump of dirt off-course and it hit my dress!  **Ohhhh** ! I was so mad that I gathered up my own clump twice the size of his and pelted him right in the face.”

“I see.” Is all he replies with. Yet, it doesn’t bother her that his responses are ‘okay’, ‘I see’, or ‘alright’.

“...So, Benny. I don’t mean to offend, but how’d a gentle guy like you get the border guard job?”

“Needed a job. Found out I’m a really good defender. Heavy armor doesn’t do much to me and I got skill in lances. Nohrian military found out and offered border guard. Here I am.” A pause, “What’s it like? Traveling so much?”

The mood slowly turns somber. “It’s nice, I get to see all of these things. It never fails to amaze me how different one place can be from another. Though, mother told me about the ocean, it’s something I really wanted to view… maybe one day.” A short pause, “But… it also really hurts. I make friends, but then I have to turn around and leave them. What’s it like? Being able to stay in one spot?”

He sighs, “It can get tiring. Sure, I know each and every person here by name. I know what people like, what they dislike, but I also get an urge to experience something new. Things can just get… too samey.”

Recognition lines her eyes, “I know exactly what you’re talking about! Everytime, we get to a village, I get to know some of the people there. I make some friends, I make cherished memories… but then it’s time to leave and I feel so bad. Then we get to the next village and it starts all over again.” Tears start to sting.

“Wow.” He states, “It’s… amazing.” Oboro tilts her head, “I’ve spent years in this post. You’ve spent years traveling, yet… we have similar outlooks. We’re both tired of sameness, yet…”

“We have entirely different lifestyles, but we experience the same things.” She finishes with a nod. “Benny? I’m glad you took the time to talk to me. You’re a really nice guy, and I hope we can meet again one day.”

He also nods, “It’s refreshing, talking to someone like this. I’m sure if we ever do meet again, it’ll be at this same outpost.”

“Daughter?” Oboro’s mother calls her out. “This shipment has finally arrived. So, it’s time to go…” She sees Benny, “Please, pardon my daughter. I’m sure you’re quite busy, sir.”

“It’s all good, ma’am.” Benny replies. “You raised a very kind daughter. I… never had anyone openly talk to me.” He then reaches into his… chest armor? “Here.” It’s a…

Teddy bear? Inside of his armor? “Um…?” Oboro hesitantly starts.

“He’s Mr. Cuddles.” He supplies without a hint of shame, “I want you to have him… maybe he’ll help you sleep at night.”

“...but, he’s yours.” This isn’t like the ‘normal’ gift. Oboro usually gets something bought or made for her. She’s never received a gift that came from someone’s personal collection.

“It’s okay, I also have Mr. Snuggles.” He reaches into his armor, again, and pulls out a second teddy bear. “They’re brothers. I bought them with one of my first payments. Both of them were discounted because they were torn in spots. So, I took the time to have them properly stitched and re-stuffed.”

“...thank you.” Oboro gladly accepts the teddy bear. “I wish I had something as precious to give.”

“Oboro, could you promise me something?” She looks from Mr. Cuddles to Benny, then nods, “If we ever meet again, could you spend some time with me again? And also reunite Mr. Cuddles and Mr. Snuggles?”

“Of course! And expect Mr. Cuddles to be in perfect condition, too! I’ll tend to him myself!”

“Thank you, Oboro. There, you gave me something as precious.” He stands, towering over her. “I should resume my duties. Goodbye, Oboro.” He gently places Mr. Snuggles into his armor.

Oboro holds Mr. Cuddles to her chest. “And you too, Benny.” She turns back to her mother, who has an amazed smile on her face. “I’m ready.”

Kindness is repaid with kindness, after all.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The sting is still there. The pain of leaving a friend behind. Sure, Oboro has only spent a few hours with Benny, but he’s left an impact as great as the others. She proudly holds Mr. Cuddles in her arms. She takes her seat in the cart and initially reaches for the clear wrap… but decides against it. She said she would personally tend to Mr. Cuddles, and she will. Yes, he’ll get dirty. Yes, he’ll wear over time. But! She will also take the time to repair him. “You’ll see your brother again, Mr. Cuddles.” She coos, “I promise you that.” With the teddy bear close to her, she quickly falls asleep… a smile on her face.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Due to the client’s delay, Oboro and her family stop and make camp before they even get back across the border. Sameness is returned with sameness. Oboro makes her tent, places Mr. Cuddles on her cot and tucks him in. She then tends to the other duties. Food, some mending, nothing really stands out. Another night of camping. She stirs the stew, like normal. She tastes the stew to make sure it’s properly spiced. Yes, it is. She takes a breath, knowing the response she’s about to get. “Mother. Father. Dinner’s ready!”

“I’m almost finished with stock count. I’ll join you soon.” Mother.

“Sorting through the last of the work orders and our route. I’ll be a few.” Father.

Of course. Oboro pours her own bowl,  **again** . However, unlike all the other times, she goes back to her tent, sits on her cot, and places Mr. Cuddles beside her. “Hey, Mr. Cuddles.” She greets, before taking a sip. “How are you feeling?” She smiles, “The cart is pretty rough at first, isn’t it?” Another spoonful. “I hope you are feeling alright.” She hums. “I remember when I was younger, the cart never really did go well for me. It took me a few dozen trips before I could settle down enough.” Hey… the stew actually tastes good! “Is Mr. Snuggles a good brother? Do you two get along well?” Nevermind the fact she’s talking to a teddy bear. “How about Benny? He told me he takes good care of you.” Another spoonful. “Well, I promise to also take really good care of you!”

And just like that, her mood stays high, and she’s finished with her stew bowl. She looks at the little teddy bear.

“And I promise you’ll see both Benny and Mr. Snuggles again.” She yawns, not even bothering with going out to take her bowl back. Instead, she gives the teddy bear a soft hug, lies her head down, and just… relaxes.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Oboro wakes up with a hammering heart. Sweat covers her body. Something’s wrong. It’s… a feeling. Coldness, a sort of dread. She holds Mr. Cuddles closer, a wave of ease washes over her. She slowly rises and takes a few steps. Silence, so silent. “Stay here, Mr. Cuddles.” She whispers as she tucks the bear back onto the cot. “I won’t be long.” She turns around and slowly walks out, first listening at the flap.

Crisp, crunch. Feet are hitting the ground. “...ready?” She hears a man say… not her father.

“Right tent?” A second, female.

“Of course, my little angel of death.” He sounds… flirtatious?

Oboro pokes her head out. Two people, dressed in almost complete black, from head to toe, and since they’re facing away from her, she literally can’t make out a single detail… besides the fact that one of them is rather small. “Don’t call me that.” The woman glances to her side at the other. “Focus.” The two move closer to her parent’s tent.

“Of course… on me.” Oboro’s voice catches in her throat. She wants to scream, to alert her parents, but… Those two are clearly killers. To give away the threat is to assure her own death. Instead, she simply whimpers and pulls back into the tent. She then looks at Mr. Cuddles, a sudden resolve hits her. She looks around her tent, opting to grab something that at least resembles a weapon.

It’s a stupid idea, but she can’t just stand aside! A few needles, a small fabric cutting knife, and some scissors. The very thought of attacking chills her. Her heart is still beating incredibly fast, her hands are shaking, but she swallows her fear. With herself armed, she steps out. Carefully, the same type of care she took when following Subaki. She takes a hesitant breath and holds it, lest her own breathing gives her away.

Crunch.

Both heads snap to her direction. Oboro’s blood freezes. “Don’t.” The woman states, staying the other’s hand. “She’s not on the contract.”

...what?

“She’s seen us, we…”

“No.” The woman takes a step towards Oboro, a sword in hand. “Return to your tent. Interfere, and I will kill you, understand?” Cold, dead eyes. Oboro can make out few strands of light-blue hair. “Then stand and  **don’t move.** ” The woman steps back. “Ready.” The two enter the tent and Oboro stands there. Her body trembles. She closes her eyes, she should…

No, they’re trained killers, but she can’t just… she has to. Tears trailing down, Oboro heeds the woman’s warning. Trembling, but not advancing nor retreating. She wishes Benny was here to stop them. The two exit the tent, as clean as earlier, but… there’s a few bags on them now.

Two of those have a bright red bottom.

The dead eye woman looks at Oboro. “Stay quiet and you’ll live.”

“We need to leave.” The man states.

“I know.” Without another word, the two leave.

Oboro stands for one, two, three minutes. Seemingly frozen in time. “M-mother? F-father?” She takes a step forward, then two. She slowly parts the tent flaps. “ **Mother** !  **Father** !” They… they aren’t just dead. Just killing them wasn’t enough! Each suffered a precise stab to their hearts and…

Oboro vomits at the sight. Tears flow down faster than ever before. She looks up once more. Those…  **monsters** took their… took their… heads. Oboro all but throws herself out of the tent, trying to force the image out of her head. Her parents are…

Her eyes happen to land on the second cart. The side has been broken into, and everything of monetary value has been stolen.

“Mother, father.” The images return, unwilling to be repelled so easily. Part of her wishes they  **did** just kill her. If it means she won’t have to experience those images again. “Mother, father…”

\-----------------------------------------------------

Oboro now stands in Shirasagi, a retainer to Lord Takumi. The horror she experienced that night has turned into determination. Training in needles has turned into training in naginatas. Rage turned into strength. Scowls cover smiles. In her room lies that one ‘memory’ corner. Well, the things she could reasonably carry from that one night. She ended up leaving Azama’s lockbox behind, as it was too bulky for the younger Oboro. Hinata’s bands and Benny’s teddy bear stayed with her. She wasn’t going to leave Mr. Cuddles behind, not after such a sincere promise.

To her, Benny is the only ‘good’ Nohrian. The other guards didn’t seem to care. Two Nohrians decapitated her parents. She grits her teeth as ‘the look’ returns. A scowl so fierce that it deters most people. She grips her naginata tighter.

But there are no more tears. Only a fire remains.

She shakes her head, then takes a breath. No, focus on protecting Lord Takumi before anything else. He has called on her for a quick chat. As for why?

Lord Corrin, the man who was taken far before Oboro become the talented Spear Fighter she is now, has returned, and her liege has had a meeting with him. The result? Well, that is what she’s about to find out. Though, considering how grave his words were, she doubts it was good. Not that she can blame him.

If Lord Corrin has been stuck in Nohr, then she can understand if he came back scarred, broken. If there is even a single spark of life in Nohr, it lies in Benny. The gentle giant who works as a border guard. “I am still keeping my promise, Benny.” She says to herself. “Mr. Cuddles is safe. I’ve sewn him together a few times already. I daresay he even looks better than before.” She looks around as she waits for Lord Takumi. “You better have kept up your promise, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah-ha! Oboro's backstory! How was having a pre-Nohrian-hating Oboro like? One who constantly smiles, makes friends, and even opened up to a certain Nohrian?
> 
> As such, Benny is the only Nohrian Oboro approves of.
> 
> To be honest, I'm personally not a fan of Oboro, but after typing her up? I do believe I have a new-found appreciation for her.
> 
> Cheers!


	9. Quirky Prodigies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present upon thee… orphans! Yes, it's the return of the Krakenburg Orphanage orphans, but this time in Castle Krakenburg, being trained as soldiers.

Inside Castle Krakenburg's training yard hosts a number of soldiers. Anywhere between new recruits to more experienced army soldiers. The yard is large enough to host several platoons. Yet, among all of them, there is one section of this area that sees hold an… unusual group of people. These people have barely breached adulthood, only one of them has matured enough to be an adult. On top of that, these people have been… 'acquired' from the Krakenburg Orphanage. Their names?

Forrest, Siegbert, Ignatius, Soleil, Nina, Velouria, Dwyer, and Ophelia with her being the eldest. Forrest and Dwyer were struggling to say the least. The former held no skill in physical combat, so he now holds a tome with uncertainty, in the same section as Ophelia.

Ophelia has turned out to be a magical prodigy. For all of her dramatic flair, there is a potential in her that puts most of the more experienced Mages and even Sorcerers to shame… the only true regret is that she wasn't found out earlier, because she  **would**  have been the strongest Mage by now. The only real 'downside' is that she refuses to pick up any Dark Tome… apparently when she was still living with her parents, her tutor explicitly told her the dangers of Dark Magic.

Dwyer was… out. Asleep. However, there's nothing anyone can do about it, as the magical 'enhancements' his parents forced on him has put him in a constant state of almost no energy. However, when he does awaken and performs, he is superb at Staves and Daggers.

Velouria, being a Wolfskin, had the obvious training of… having her Beaststone taken away and given an axe instead. However, she is still beast-folk, so the dreaded Beast Killer can still easily kill her. Though, due to her innate strength of being a Wolfskin, is able to tear through armor without much issue… essentially any weapon she picks up is an 'Armorslayer'.

Nina held promise in the bow… when she wasn't trying to snipe weapons out of other people's hands… or staring at people. Or procuring papers out of seemingly thin air to write on… or sneaking off and being caught staring at people and writing on paper. And the material she writes is… questionable at the best of times. She's proven to be a very capable writer and artist, if she'd only do so on topics that held significant effect… instead of two men getting together. No amount of reprimanding has ever done her any good, as she is far too hardened by the slums to let anything get to her. And to think… she's the youngest of the group.

Siegbert and Soleil took up to the sword, with the latter having an unusually high skill in avoiding attacks while the former was developing a physical strength faster. There is the nuisance of Soleil prancing off to do things similar to Nina, except that she keeps staring at women instead. Well that and she continues to demand that she gets her sword that 'Mama Camilla' gave her.

Lastly, Ignatius seemed to favor a lance with heavier armor, but for whatever reason, he only truly fights well with someone beside him… and Siegbert has proven to be the best someone. As such, Siegbert and Ignatius always train together. The two are great defenders, becoming a wall of steel.

Not a single one of them  **wanted**  to be there, and why would they? They were all stolen away from a makeshift home, as tough as it was. And… apparently 'Mama Camilla' has died.

"Attention!" A relatively younger soldier walks up. When compared to the rest of the 'trainers', this one is actually pretty nice. He takes his time to listen to the orphans and is far more gentle when correcting them… that is, when he isn't being watched by his superiors. Gods only know how he kept his kind nature through all of this. He and his horse are protected with black Nohrian steel… high-grade steel, too. This man is the youngest one to ever train for and pass the Paladin classes. His name?

Silas.

"The noble and honorable Silas of the Stars now has the complete attention of the fair maiden, Ophelia Dusk." She shuts her Wind Tome closed and directs her gaze on him.

"I'm awake…" Dwyer says while nodding off.

"'Sup, Goody-Two Shoes." Nina takes aim and fires at the target… on its only supporting stand. It hits the wooden leg with enough force to cause the thing to break and fall down. "...whoops." She is most certainly not sorry. "I keep telling them to make those out of iron."

"My apologies, Mister Silas, I tried." Forrest sighs, "However, the only thing I could blast away is my own clothes." Nina snickers and gives him a whistle, causing the young man to flush. By now, all of the other orphans knows exactly what Nina is imagining. "What about my request for Staff training?"

Silas sighs, "It's been denied… again."

"We've held off trainees for a total of seventeen minutes and forty-five seconds." Siegbert starts.

"Seven sword, four lance, five axe, two tome, three dagger." Ignatius counts off.

"Still haven't gotten my sword yet." Soleil gripes. "I did see some rather… eye-catching healers today, though."

"Velouria?" Silas asks.

"...I want to be with my brother again." She raises her steel axe and slams it into the concrete ground, both cracking it and putting it deep enough to where it'll take several adults to pull back out… again.

The youthful Paladin nods, "Alright. Forrest, I'll set up a personal tutor for you again. Dwyer, I'm going to need to see some actual performance. The rest of you are free to go."

"I wish to instruct the fair Forrest in his pursuit of the magical arts…" Ophelia states. "He of the Nightfall has seen and judged Forrest worthy of Ophelia Dusk's teachings."

Forrest smiles, "I would like that very much, Ophelia Dusk." He looks at Silas with a straight face, "That is, if it is allowed. I understand if she isn't allowed yet." Forrest and Ophelia, perhaps due to the time spent training together, has caused the pair to become fast friends.

"I'll ask the…" Silas starts, before he pauses, "Actually. Go ahead. You'll do better than any 'tutor' I can find."

"And thus it has been spoken. Come, allow Ophelia Dusk to guide you through the ethereal planes of higher learning." Forrest and Ophelia retake their spots in the tome training area.

"I'm… ready… I guess." Dwyer gets up and brandishes a dagger. "How many?"

"Try and go for… three, I guess?" See, if they had anyone else, Dwyer might have been ordered to do at least ten.

"...Hey, Silas?" Dwyer smiles, "I wanna show you something."

"Hm? Sure, what is it?" Silas tilts his head…

As Dwyer fans the one dagger into a total of three, he then sends them all soaring at once… One bullseye on one target, then the next target then… slightly off center. "Oh, I thought I had properly calculated the force required alongside the correct trajectories…" He looks to the side, over to Forrest and Ophelia, "Ah, right… I had forgotten to include the residual magical energy that is emanating from the wind-based magic being practiced. I'll need to observe and figure out the average magical force with each Wind spell, then time my daggers when the interference is at its weakest."

No matter how many times it happens, Dwyer always manages to stun the others into silence with his extensive knowledge, "Uh… alright?" And of course, Dwyer is the only one who understands what he is saying.

"...Maybe tomorrow." He finishes off. "Was my performance satisfactory enough to leave with my fellow friends?"

"Y-Yeah. Go on ahead." Silas simply stares at Dwyer's latest display of skill. When Silas had originally accepted to teach a group of orphans, he was appalled that King Garon would force such young people to train. However, he quickly accepted because Silas  **knows**  there aren't many who would treat them with kindness. He wasn't expecting each of them to be such a prodigy in their own right. Each and every single one of them is far more capable than the average soldier… with Ophelia being the only one who is an actual adult. Even Nina, who probably isn't in her mid-teens, can snipe a weapon from the orphan's training area over to the 'normal' recruit's training area. He truly hopes that they keep their 'quirks', as annoying as some can get.

He wonders how his sister is doing…

* * *

Among the barren plains of Nohr, and about an entire mile away from the nearest town, a woman training as a Cavalier is both chasing down and trying very hard to call her horse back. The biggest part here is  **trying** , since she's had the most unfortunate luck of picking the single most independent and stubborn horse to ever 'grace' the country of Nohr. "Axel!  **Axel**!" She shouts. "Gods, if my brother saw me now…" Like her brother, she also has a set of black armor, but hers is a lower-quality Nohrian iron and her horse lacks any armor at all. "'Choose this one Sophie. He's a special horse, Sophie. He'll do wonders, Sophie'." She mutters in a mocking tone. "By His shadows, the only thing he's doing for me is giving me headaches…  **Axel**!" She continues to rant. "Momma's a super awesome Paladin, Daddy's an expert Great Knight, brother's the youngest Paladin to ever be, and here I am, wanting to be like the rest… with a horse who doesn't listen to diddly-squat that I say.  **Axel**! Get over here! I'll get you a whooole basket of apples!"

…

That she can't afford.

A snort sounds out from behind her and she both squeals and falls forward. Clop, clop, she raises her head to see Axel with a horse-equivalent of a smug smile on his face. "Finally, are you ready to go back?" She huffs. "Training's gonna start soon and I'm  **never**  gonna even make it a Cavalier if you keep running off like that!" She chides Axel, before sighing. "Let's go back, okay?" Axel snorts…

Then starts trotting off without her. "H- **Hey**! I'm supposed to ride you!  **Axel** ~!" She runs… and he starts running. "Aw, c'mon! I might as well sign up for the Mercenary courses at this rate!" Axel abruptly stops and Sophie skids to a stop, almost slamming into her horse's rear end. "Er, not really. Oh! I could be the first Mercenary that rides a horse!" At last, she climbs onto the saddle…

Then Axel starts running again before she is even secured, leaving her to grip onto the spot where her foot is supposed to go as she bounces up and down on her stomach. " **Axel** ~!" She screams. "Stooop, I gotta…" He, for once, listens and stops… causing her to roll off the front and onto the ground. "Oof…" She blinks her eyes as her horse stares at her. "Mark my words, Axel, one day… we're gonna be the best pair ever!" Axel lets out a neigh. "No, we are. And… and one day, we're gonna show my family that we're the best pair ever!" With her inspiring speech over, she hops back onto Axel's saddle, "Let's go!" And for once… for once…

He doesn't throw her off.

* * *

"Hee hee…" Nina stifles a giggle as she sits on  **top**  of a chandelier in one of the hallways of Krakenburg. She's currently ogling two guards standing… well, guard to someone's chambers. Not that that bit matters to her, what matters is that these two guards are male. Sure, she could be using her expertise in stealth and balance for 'serious' things, but she also happens to have a fascination with men. She looks back down at her notebook and resumes drawing them… without armor… fondling each other. Matters that should be far too mature for a girl who hasn't even… 'blossomed' yet.

Well, there's actually another reason why she's up here… Dwyer has been strangely assertive to her 'hanging on high' and 'drawing the surrounding scenery'. Nina asked for clarification multiple times, but he  **happens**  to be out of energy by then.

"Crown Prince Xander." The two guards state as they part way for the eldest son of King Garon.

"Ooo… three's better than two!" She whispers as she starts a third drawing. "And the Crown Prince, no les… hee hee."

"If I catch you sitting, leaning, or anywhere that your feet aren't touching the ground, I will have you detained." Xander announces without even looking her way. He's… obviously crazy, right? There's no way, "Get down, Nina." The two guards share a look, completely clueless. "Or I will cut the chain to your perch myself."

Hastened by his threat, Nina moves just a bit too fast, causing her to lose her footing and fall nearly thrice her height onto the plush carpet, "Ow…" She whines, the notebook and pen landing near her. "How'd you know?" She asks without a hint of formality.

"If you're going to hide your presence, at least make sure your shadow doesn't give you away." He scoffs as he enters his quarters.

"...Hide my shadow? Hm…" Nina scoops up her notepad, pen, and dashes off.

* * *

Dwyer is resting his head down on his table after his recent work session. He likes to do his calculations in small bursts, and strangely enough, he does more in his bursts of work than most people do in hours. So, what lies next to him? It's simple, really…

Multiple step equations on the trajectories of airborne object versus their opposing forces such as the air density, magical backlash primarily from spells in the Wind category, the shape of the object itself, the average throwing strength of the person in question... You know, the things that 'every' child learns in their 'elementary' class. "Oh, right…" He slowly raises his head, "I was going to write a report on the subtle traits of Obsidian…" He sighs. "If only they knew… if only they knew…" He grabs a sheet of paper, "Keep pushing, Soleil. That sword alone is more valuable than any other possible armament you can wield. Only a 'Divine Weapon' can surpass what Mama Camilla gave you." Another, deeper sigh.

"It's a shame that some blacksmith made it… now, if only Gugurang forged it…" Shortly after, steam erupts as the temperature skyrockets. He even had to pat his sheet down as it caught on fire, "And always so showy with your power."

* * *

Soleil is standing outside of the armory, arms crossed as she stares the guards down. "I want my sword back." This isn't the first day, nor will it be the last day she stands here and demands her sword back. It's simply the fact that it's the only thing she has left to remember Mama Camilla back, well there's that and…

Dwyer has been strangely assertive on that she gets her obsidian sword back.

"..." The guards remain stoically silent.

"I could floor you two right now, y'know?" She tries to get a rise out of them.

"..."

"How about a spar later, huh? If… when I win, I get my sword back."

"..."

"How about a cup of tea, then? We could talk things out."

"..."

"Gods, if it's not one, it's another." Crown Prince Xander walks up, "Soleil, leave."

"I just want my sword back!" She gripes without a hint of formality. "At least let me have it during training! I swear I'll do better with it!"

He furrows his brows, sighs, rubs his temples, and… "Soleil can use her Obsidian Sword  **only**  during training. Not a second more, not a second less, understand?" He directs his attention towards the guards.

"Yes, milord!" The two respond at once.

"There, now leave."

Soleil flashes her best smile, "Sweet. Thank you, Crown Prince Xander!" She skips off.

* * *

"So, if I cover your left flank, and you cover my rear and right sides, what are we going to do about our blind spot?" Siegbert asks as he goes over several diagrams with Ignatius. "By His Shadow… we need a third body to make this work."

"...Hey, Siegbert?" Ignatius asks, "I notice you're the only one who still refers to the Dusk Dragon specifically… so, your faith?"

He grimaces, "I have every trust that He will make things right, given time. I… I just wish I had my medallion back." A short pause, "And your faith is on us, the orphans, correct?"

"No…" He shakes his head, but before Siegbert could follow up, he adds, "My  **trust**  is in us, my family." He smiles. "We're in this together, 'till the end. I don't want to keep referring to us as 'just orphans', I want us to be a family… a large, diverse, family."

"...I like that idea, Ignatius." Siegbert nods, "So, we would be brothers, then?"

"Yeah, we would… brother."

* * *

"I'm… afraid I still don't understand, Ophelia." Forrest sighs as he takes a short rest, being magically spent from failed attempt after failed attempt with a basic Wind tome.

"And you've tried dispersing your devilish spite onto the target of your anger?" She asks.

"I have tried focusing my inner anger on a person of interest." He nods.

"Maybe the person didn't pull enough visceral actions out of you?"

"Ophelia… I don't know anyone that I  **want**  to hurt." He sighs, "That's the problem, I don't  **want**  to hurt anyone, which is why I keep asking for Staff training."

"Well, this fair maiden doesn't accept your reasoning." She frowns. "I have peered into the astral plains beyond thus gained the divinity to know that there are corrupted…"

"Ophelia, please. Stop." Forrest recoils. "No, you're right, but those are things I  **never**  want to remember."

"Oh, Oh…" The Dark Mage-in-training deflates. "I… hadn't realized."

He sighs, "No, it's alright, you didn't know how much it affects me."

"...I do." She whispers, "I meant no humor or exaggeration when I say I saw visages of your pain."

"Ophelia?" Forrest starts.

"Yes, dear friend?"

"Please, leave me alone for a while." He flinches at the sheer sorrow in her face. "I need some time to think."

"O-of course. My sincerest apologies." Is all she responds with.

* * *

"Stupid…" Velouria growls as she claws at the steel walls inside her 'room', "damn…" reinforced steel at that, ever since the guards found out that Velouria could in fact, tear through steel without weapons. "Humans!" She howls out as her claws chip and break, causing her hand to bleed…

"...again?" The door opens as a light blue hair Maid walks in, flanked by two guards wielding Beast Killers. "By Her Ice, I might as well live here… hand." She pulls out a 'Staff', healing…

"Leave me." The Wolfskin growls… then the Maid coughs and the lethal weapons are pointed at her, "...fine, human." She outstretches her bloodied claws, to which she mends them, followed by wrapping each of her fingers gently. "There, now…"

"You know as well as I do that I'm not finished yet." The Maid scoffs as she pulls out a cloth and some cleaning fluids. "I refuse to leave a single blood stain here… wolf."

" **You** …" Velouria pounces, before being slammed down by the, fortunately, non-toxic end of a Beast Killer. "One day… I'm gonna rip into each and every piece in your body. I'm gonna drink every last drop of blood. I'm gonna store your bones as snacks for later… And, And when I'm finally finished with every last fragment of your body, I'm gonna do the same to your damn  **sister**!"

The Ice Tribe Maid stiffens. "You'll leave Felicia out of this!"

Velouria chuckles, dark and throaty, "Maybe I should line up your whole 'Ice Tribe' as a feast for the pack then?"

A chilling wind starts to blanket the room, "And how about if I have your entire 'pack' hunted down, skinned alive, then served to the predators outside of your den? Because gods know I wouldn't want to stain my mouth with  **your kind's**  foul meat."

"Lotta talk for someone who needs to disarm their prey and needs two bodyguards to 'safely' enter my 'room'... how about you send them out and try that pathetic attempt at a threat again?" Velouria growls…

The Maid scowls. "Uncivilized bitch."

Yet, she only laughs, "At least I'm proud of my status as a 'bitch'."

"Hmph." She huffs as she leaves.

"I'll be sure to send a letter to let you know the day I rip into your precious sister… alive and squirming. Whimpering for her dear sister as the life drains from her eyes, her resistance slowly fading as more and more of her warm life-fluid is drained into me. I'll even keep her skull for the day I do the same to you, so you can look at her eye-less head." Velouria is breathing heavily, more than simply excited at such a possibility…

Then howls out as a dagger imbeds itself into her left leg. "Oh dear, it seems my Staff has ran out of magic… I suppose you're on your own." The light-blue hair maid walks out…

Velouria knows her name is Flora, but she doesn't care for it.

* * *

Silas sighs as he ruffles his already permanent case of 'bed hair'. Papers, reports, citations, demands…

It never ends. No matter how many times he tries to get through to the orphan-made-soldiers, nothing ever sticks. "So, Nina… Soleil… Velouria." He names each of them as he reads over the documents. "Spying on the Crown Prince's quarters…"

"Aw, c'mon. I didn't even know they were his!" The archer gripes.

"Threatening the armory guards…"

"At least my request finally got through." Soleil half-smiles.

"And.. gods. I can't even stomach what you told Flora." The Wolfskin remains silent. "Velouria, you are as alone here as her… could you try and be friendly?"

"Is she a Wolfskin?"

"No." He flatly states.

"Then the only thing I will try to do is give myself one of the single most pleasurable kills possible… I'm gonna…"

"Velouria, please. No." It's been a subtle change, but Silas has noticed that the glint in the Wolfskin's eyes have slowly started becoming… wilder, more dangerous. He fears that is the army's intention… No, he can only guess, as he doesn't know much about Wolfskin to make a proper assumption.

"So, what's it gonna be this time, mister Silas?" Soleil asks.

"Something relatively simple, maybe a talk, we'll get to walk, and this will happen again." Nina leans back on the chair, pushing it onto two legs. "Ain't that right?"

Silas was about to protest, about to  **claim**  he was going to give them something serious for once, but… then he sighs. "I'm going to explain why I ask to do what you should do, then I'm going to send you back."

"See? Told ya." Nina smirks.

"I don't have time for this…" Velouria  **growls**. "If you're just going to sit there and do the same damn thing every time…"

"Velouria… alright, fine." He sighs again, "Alright, how about this. Instead of lecturing you three specifically about what you  **should**  do, how about I tell you three why I never actually do anything harsh."

"Uh, well… you're a Goody-Two-Shoes." Nina shrugs.

"It's because I care you your well-being." Silas counters, "It's because I think there's more to raising an army than to just drill them constantly. I think that the leading officers should set proper examples, that while yes, we want you all to do your best, but we also want to make sure nobody's breaking down. I believe that we should take the time to learn each other."

"Ugh… it's so sappy that I'm gonna get sick." Nina groans… then pushes the chair back a bit too far, " **woah**!"

That is, if Soleil didn't reach out and stop the chair. "I saw that coming from a mile away." She shrugs as she  **pushes**  the chair back into place herself. "Nina, the chair has four legs for a reason."

"Hmph." Velouria sticks her nose up. "If you really cared about  **my**  well-being, then you'd get me out of here."

"I'd rather go back into the slums than live here." Nina nods.

"..." Soleil remains silent.

"You also realize you are essentially asking me to die, right?" Silas smoothly asks. "And that's not even counting if the army doesn't find and capture you all."

"I'd rather stay with mister Silas." Soleil finally speaks up. "At least I know it's a bit safer here."

"You're trapped here, Soleil, how is that  **not**  getting to you?!" Nina counters.

"Nina, with all due respect… you're too young to understand."

"I'm…  **what**?!" Oh dear. "I'm barely even one year younger than you!"

"Nina, what's the worst thing that happened to you during your time in the slums?"

"Got caught by a passing guard and was beaten for about ten minutes." She shrugs it off. "What about…"

"...Had a feeling." She then glances at Silas, then at Nina, before back at Silas. "About half a year before I arrived in the Krakenburg Orphanage, I was out on the streets. I remember this night 'better' than the rest. In an alleyway across the vendor that sells, usually stale, bread. I was hiding under one of the roofs of a building, trying to stay out of the rain. It felt like a night like any other, and maybe it would have been, had some thief hadn't ran past me." Nina's casualness turns into a more solemn expression, "Dunno what he was running from, but I remember him referring to me as a 'he'. He took me by the arm and told me I was gonna deliver this 'package' he had stolen. I told him no in a slightly panicked voice, and my pitch must've given way the fact that I'm a girl, and…"

"Rainy night, across the food stalls, alleyway?" Silas sums up, "Thief… brown paper-wrapped package in the shape of a small circle?"

"Yep. That was me you saved." Soleil looks heavily thankful she doesn't have to continue. "That's why I feel safe with you, that's why I don't wanna leave."

"All I remember is that was the first night I actually ended up having to  **kill**  a criminal. Besides, I could barely even see you… how can you remember me?"

A smile, as sad and empty as it was, "Your hair gave you away."

"My… hair?" Silas repeats. Soleil only responds with a nod.

Nina looks between the two, "I don't get it, your 'worst pain' was the fear of a few stab wounds?"

"Nina, with all of your adultery-drawing, foul-mouthed, expert thievery and archery, you can be so innocent at times." She, almost lifelessly, responds. "You've claimed to have 'seen the worst', but no… you haven't."

"Nina, this is a topic that shouldn't just be brought up out of nowhere."

"The hell is  **it**?" Nina stands up.

"Nina, Velouria, dismissed." Silas instead  **orders**. "Now, go."

"Ugh, fine."

"Took long enough." Velouria huffs as she leaves.

"...Mister Silas?" Soleil asks.

The Paladin stands up, walks around the desk and opens his arms, "Come here…"

"Mister Silas." The more masculine woman takes a few steps, before throwing herself into his arms. "Th-thank you… M-m-mister Silas."

"Soleil? I have a question, if you don't mind."

With tearful eyes, she nods, "Yes sir?"

"You said you were in the Krakenburg Orphanage? So by all technicality, you're still an orphan, right?"

"I… guess?"

"Soleil, if I had the chance, would you allow me to… take you in as my own? Would you allow me to be your father?"

"F-father…?" She repeats. "You'd… be my… father?" She looks up, licking her lips as she tastes the name. "Mister Silas would be my… father?"

"I'd need to file the…"

"Father!" Soleil cuts him off with a tight hug. "Father, father, father, father…"

Well, it's not official until he actually obtains the papers and… "That would be correct… daughter." She needs the reassurance more than anything, and he has every intention of following through.

* * *

Dwyer slowly raises his head as someone knocks on his desk. "Got the drawings." Nina says. "Still can't believe you're into this." She giggles.

"...I like drawings." He mutters as he accepts the papers. "Pen?"

"Yep." She places it on the desk. "Let me know what you think later, alright?"

"Will do… thank you… Nina." With his work ready, he straightens his posture. Nina skips out of the room. "Perfect as always." He grabs a clear liquid and just dumps it on the 'drawings', "Even if I have to lie to get it done." The 'drawing' fades away and all that's left is a perfect representation of the hallways that Nina was in. How?

Well, it's simple. With Ophelia's help, he crafted a spell that is infused into ink, which is then applied to a special paper using a modified pen. This ink 'draws' like any other, but what its true purpose is to convey the mental images formed inside the artist's brain, effectively making a one-for-one picture of wherever the person started drawing. Finally, there is a counter-agent in the form of a liquid that dissolves the 'drawing' and only leaves the mental imprint. With this and Nina's highly unusual skill in sneaking around, Dwyer is slowly making a map of Krakenburg, with the latest addition being the hallway of the Crown Prince himself. "Heh, you said you wanted a way out, Nina… you'll get your wish… eventually."

Tap, tap, and Soleil lets herself in. "Heya! Just wanted to let you know that I can start using my Obsidian Sword during training… and training only." A half-frown makes its way to her face. "That's all good, right?"

"I can make do." He nods.

"Hey, Dwyer?" She asks.

"You want to know why I'm interested in your Obsidian sword?" He smiles, then grabs the small stack of papers. "...I have plans, Soleil."

"With my sword?"

"They include your sword."

"Because of the, uh… spell-reflective thingy it can do?"

"Part of the reason."

"And the other part?"

"...How much do you know about the Dragon Gods?" A short pause follows.

"I sorta kinda know about Dusk."

"How about Fire?"

"Nope. What does the Fire Dragon God have to do with my sword?" She shrugs.

"I'll tell you… later. I'm tired." He sighs as he lies his head down.

"Oh fine… sleep well." Soleil leaves.

* * *

Velouria growls as she's taken by both arms with a soldier wielding a Beast Killer behind her. The  **second**  she was healed by an angered Flora was the second she apparently had some sort of 'test' to attend to. She was brought out into an… arena? "Oh-ho! There she is!" Some bald-headed human laughs, he has a massive axe strapped to his back. "Velouria! The Wolfskin! Heh."

"Human." She narrows her eyes.

"I hear you're pretty skilled with the axe."

"I want my Beaststone back."

"No." He scowls as he plucks an axe from the side. Serrated edges and gleaming with a magical light. "You're here for amusement, not preferences."

"I can have you…"

" **Your**  own amusement." He cuts her off, "I can see it in your eyes, the  **need**  to kill. I heard about that glorious threat you made to that spineless Flora. I want to bring out that killing side, so…" He hands her the axe, to which one soldier releases a grip on her arm. "This is an axe made specifically for tearing deep, thrice forged for durability and sharpness, enchanted to keep it sharp… just for you." She grabs the shaft and her eyes light up. "You, stand here." He barks an order at the soldier who let go of her arm.

"Yes sir!" He stands right in front of the bald man…

Who twists him around, pulls his arms back, and kicked the backside of his knees. "Look at him, Velouria. Weak, pathetic." He starts, "Something easy to start off with. I want you to cleave him into two."

"Wh-wh-what?! I…"

"Do it, Velouria."

The Wolfskin grips the axe tighter. "And that's all I gotta do?"

"Velouria… if you do as I say for the next  **three**  days, the King has given me permission to let you walk free."

"...free?" Velouria gasps.

"That's right… and it starts with bisecting this man."

The man cowers and whimpers as the second soldier releases his grip. "Pl-please, don't…"

"For my freedom… I'd kill as many as you want." The man didn't even have a chance to scream as Velouria chopped him in half right at the waist… one single swing.

" **Ha**! Perfect!" The bald man laughs, "Glorious! I…" The other guard beside Velouria was cleaved vertically, "Go on…"

She rounds on the last one, the dreaded Beast Killer in hand… however, due to the gory deaths of the other two, the guard trembles. "Damn humans…" One, two, then three. Her first slash cuts through the Beast Killer, the second is a diagonal slice through his whole body, the third is across the waist. "Blood… I want more!" She looks at the bald man, "I want to kill more!"

He laughs, "Let your blood settle, Velouria. It'd do no good to charge in blindly." He bravely extends a hand, "My name is Hans."

"...Three days?"

"Three days."

"And I'm free?"

"And you'll be free, by the order of King Garon himself." He procures a paper, "Personally written and signed by His Highness."

Velouria licks her lips, grips the axe and shakes his hand with her free one, "Deal."

* * *

"Ophelia?" Forrest gently knocks on the prodigal Dark Mage's door. "Are you inside?"

"...Forrest?" She gently asks as she opens the door, "Ah, the…" She pauses, seeming deflated, "I mean. Welcome, please come in."

He smiles, if a bit empty, "Thank you." He looks around, magical lights are floating about, a number of objects are glowing… a testament to how skilled she is. "Your room is beautiful… it's like looking at a starry night sky."

"Thank you, Forrest."

"Ophelia? I need to apologize for my behavior earlier." He sighs as he sits himself, "Yes, it is a sensitive topic, but I shouldn't have dismissed you so quickly."

"...No, 'tis but this maiden's fault. I had… looked into your thoughts, your… nightmares without consent. While I had this dark feeling when we were still in the orphanage, I hadn't realized until I was getting proper training that I was actually sensing your aura."

"My… aura?" He repeats.

"Yes!" She quickly nods, "Everyone has a unique magical aura, and and… I noticed that shortly after you wake up, to about lunch time, your aura was so… dark. Like a terrible thunderstorm where all you can see is black clouds and rain and thunder and lightning."

"...I do have nightmares at times, yes." Forrest nods. "Again, I apologize for pushing you away so quickly. Can… we still be friends?"

Ophelia flashes a beautiful smile, "From the day we were brought from the cosmos was the day we were destined to become intertwined in a plan far greater than most could ever know. I, Ophelia Dusk, will ever stand by your side, Forrest, for as long as you'll have me." She bows.

"And I, Forrest, will forever be thankful for the Dragon Gods allowing us the chance to exist in the same plane of existence, that we may forever share our troubles and joys together, until the end of days... Ophelia Dusk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get more little scenarios up, but I kinda went… bleh.
> 
> Ah-ha! Silas has made his appearance and he's… already a Paladin? Before the war even started? It turns out Sophie is another '2nd gen' unit, this time in the form of Silas's younger sister. However, she hasn't even made it to a Cavalier yet.
> 
> So, how do y'all like the orphan's attitudes? I personally like how Nina is the youngest, apparently the most hardened… but also ignorant of some topics due to her youth. Or how about the kinship between Siegbert and Ignatius? Ophelia's and Forrest's friendly bond? Soleil and her… eventual adoptive father, Silas.
> 
> Oh, Dwyer's intellect, whew. Makes ya wonder how much he really does know.
> 
> Aaaand, Velouria. Well, at least this gives her a sort of canon reason to be able to use a Heart Seal to become a Berserker. Also, just, oof. Hope it all ends well for her, it would be terrible if she ended up as a…
> 
> Boss unit.
> 
> Oh, I suppose Flora and Hans made an appearance… and Xander.


	10. A Girls' Day Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This side chapter happens during the events of 'Confined' chapters 25-27, Felicia's and Elise's day off while Corrin is out doing his things.

Elise is lying on her back, primarily naked, though the blankets are covering her bareness. She shivers in delight as she lazily watches Corrin, her love, slowly encroach upon the bed. Her breathing shortens as he approaches. He hasn't even done anything and she's already feeling her insides warm up, her face is flushing, and she can feel an… urge.

No, it's not because what he isn't doing now, but it's the thought of what he is  **about**  to do that has her heart racing. Just him… her… and some time in the bed, doing some 'pillow pouncing'...

"You're ready, right?" He gently asks as he lowers himself onto the bed, fully clothed.

"I've been wanting this for a looooong time." She quickly nods, her long hair bouncing around with each movement, though her hair isn't done right now, leaving it more a waterfall, er… hairfall of blondeness. "Please, Corrin, I… I want you. I  **need**  you." She makes grabby hands.

He chuckles, which sends even more warmth through her, "I've thought of so many things for us, but I waited for you." With an ease that he probably got from the number of times he 'sheet spreaded' with Felicia, he slips out of his clothes, leaving her entranced, if only sliiiightly bothered.

His scars, or rather… the few Princess Sakura couldn't heal.

He follows her line of sight, but he makes no effort to hide them. "Do they hurt?" She can't help but ask, being a healer herself.

One hand traces the largest one… if she remembers right, he said it was the day Xander first used Siegfried in a 'training' session. A slash from the Dusk Divine Weapon ripped through Corrin's armor… and his chest. A slash that would have killed him, had Jakob not been authorized to use a staff for. "At times, yes." He nods. "But, I'm not… we're not in Nohr anymore. All that remains of those times are memories, or at least… most of them." The hand moves from his chest to the blanket resting over her body, just enough pressure to feel his hand. "Only a few remain, and they are the ones I will forever cherish," His hand moves up, slowly pressing against her stomach, her breathing is coming out in huffs now, she can feel that 'urge' get stronger, a strange burning feeling down below. "Always will love and protect," Further, between the dip of her breasts, to her neck.

"G-gods, C-C-Corrin…" She pleads, but not truly knowing what she wants.

"I love you, Elise." He just barely whispers as his hand caresses her face, enticing a moan from her. "Both you and Felicia. I promise to always make you both happy… to please you both. In more than just emotions and spirit, but also in body."

"Pl-please, I… I want you." She can feel her legs part of their own accord, as her body seems to know what to do.

He smiles, "Not so quickly, love. I want to make sure that you experience only the best." He slowly crawls up and over her, and for a moment, her eyes flick downward. She gasps and quickly looks away, her face now fully flushed. It isn't exactly the most appropriate thought at the moment, ironic considering what he is  **about**  to do, but she couldn't help but think… will  **that**  fit? Maybe she isn't ready? She feels like she's too small for…  **that**. "I'll be gentle." He assures her. "Remember, if you want me to stop or slow down, just tell me. But, you also need to know… it will hurt at first." His voice is coming out husky and in short breaths…

And all that does is entice her even more. Still, she nods, "I u-understand. So, uh… wh-what's first?"

His smile turns a bit more… lustful? "We'll start simple…" His face closes in and he places a soft kiss on her lips, igniting her nerves into a rush of passion and pleasure and…

* * *

Elise opens her eyes to see that the person she is kissing is most certainly  **not**  Corrin… but Felicia. The once-concubine seems as surprised as her. So, it's only natural that the next reaction is for Elise to let out a high-pitched squeak as she jumps backwards… and lands on the floor. Her heart is racing, both from embarrassment and lust. She even feels a bit light-headed and her face is so hot and… Felicia pokes her head over the bed, her face is not even a tinge bit heated.

She smirks, "You were having a good dream, I hope?" Felicia quickly shuffles around and extends an arm, helping the dazed disowned-princess up.

"Uh… yeah. Really good." She tries and to avoid anything having to do with her…

Felicia giggles. "That's the first time I heard you moaning  **for**  Corrin, dear." Elise's face went red again. "Granted, this definitely isn't the first time I heard you moaning… in fact, I…"

"Felicia! Please!" Elise pleads.

"Sorry." She pats Elise's head.

Elise hums at the feeling, then looks around and… "Huh, where's Corrin?"

"He left a few hours ago." She smoothly replies. "He wanted us to have today for ourselves, so… I went back to sleep, since you wouldn't be up for another few hours." She then starts hand-brushing Elise's hair, the natural cold from her hands sending a pleasing wave throughout Elise, "I love you, Elise."

"I… love you too, Felicia." She responds. "So… whaddya wanna do?"

Felicia hesitates for a moment, "I'm… not too sure, honestly." Elise tilts her head at her uncertainty.

"Felicia? When was the last time you did something for yourself?" She innocently asks.

The Ice Tribe pauses, opening her mouth, then closing… and back open, "Flora was busy with learning from our father," The air turns far more serious, "She aspired more for the Tribe, while I wanted to do more for our Dragon. So, she learned from father, the chieftain. I learned from our mother, the Ice Communer. However, I was off for the day, so I was outside, enjoying the use of my Ice magic. I was making some snowflakes and building moderate sized objects out of snow." Her voice turns… pained? "That's when I heard a shout, not that I could make it out what was being said. But, a few minutes later, Nohrian soldiers were overtaking the Tribe."

"Felicia, if you don't wanna continue…" Is that really the last time she played around?

Yet, she shakes her head, "No. It's something that's been bothering me, and I said I would stop bottling everything inside." That's right, Elise remembers that. "The King decreed that we stop worshiping our Dragon… they wanted us to  **stop**  worshiping the  **Ice Dragon**!" She suddenly was angered… not that Elise could blame her. "Of course we resisted, and they… they started assaulting us. One by one, our people were bound… even me. Everyone. They lined us up, and I… I thought we were all going to…" Tears, but unlike most, Felicia cries small crystals. "But no, they brought our mother up to the front. A nasty looking man with a large axe stood next to her. He looked  **happy**  that he was going to execute mother… and that's what he did. There was no speech about how we should have surrendered, nothing about how resistance is futile. He just cleaved her without hesitating."

"G-gods…" Elise breathes. To… to have her own mother, "I…"

"And as if that wasn't enough, Flora and I were to be taken away. The rest of the Tribe was freed." She continues, "That's when I was forced to train as a Maid, but I was 'too clumsy' and instead they… I…" Felicia finally stops, her sorrow overwhelming her.

"Shh…" Elise tries to calm her down, as the air temperature cools down. "I'm here for you." A short pause, before she flashes a huge smile, "So, let's do something today! I don't wanna lay around all day!" Discarding the blanket, Elise stands to reveal… a flower-printed sleeping gown. She… isn't quite comfortable enough to sleep, well…

Bare. Like Felicia does. To that effect, Elise looks away with a small flush as Felicia gets out of bed to dress herself. "Elise?" Felicia steps forward, Elise turns around and…

Well, Felicia hasn't exactly finished pulling up her clothes yet, so Elise got a glimpse of her breasts… and considering the knowing look that's on the other's face, she  **meant**  to do that. "Uh-huh?" Elise tilts her head.

"Well… how about… shopping?" She suggests. "Maybe we could get our love something?"

"Liiiike?" Elise nearly sings while bobbing her head. "Oh! How about some flowers?"

"...That sounds like something he would get us." Felicia pauses for a moment, "Still, I like the idea. The women giving a man some flowers for once…" She then nods, "Let's do that, then." She finishes dressing herself, "We could also… talk, too?"

Elise's eyes widen and she gasps, "You betcha!  **Oh** , just lemme get some better clothes, first!" She then hops on over to the dresser, which contains her…

Two kimonos and one Nohrian dress which has seen better days. The Nohrian dress doubles as her Troubadour attire, she hasn't had it repaired since before she left for the Bottomless Canyon, and when she arrived as one of the fiances to the Hoshidan Prince Corrin, she has since received two kimonos. One is courtesy of Queen Mikoto, which is a lovely red like the Hoshidan royal color, but also a watery-blue, which reflects the Water Dragon.

The second kimono, however, was gifted to her by none other than big sister Camilla! With a combination of colored threads, she has made her an even deeper mix. In addition to the previous royal Hoshidan red and water-blue, Camilla has weaved in the more familiar Nohrian royal purple and some lines of midnight-black. Essentially, this kimono is the de facto combination of Hoshido and Nohr… with some Water Tribe mixed in.

It's only obvious she chose the second one.

"Um… wouldja mind turning around for a bit?" Elise sheepishly asks.

"Dear… are you still concerned about your looks?" Felicia counters as she walks closer. "Would you trust me with something?"

Elise's breath catches, "I… what do you want to do?"

"Here…" Felicia slightly lowers herself and touches Elise's sleeping gown. "I changed Corrin's clothes plenty of time… may I do yours?"

"Uh, s-sure?"

"If you don't want me to, just say no."

"Felicia? Go right ahead." She still sounds uncertain, but… she nods.

With an efficiency that only proves that Felicia has done this many times, Elise's sleeping gown slips off in a matter of seconds, leaving her temporarily bare… but fully flushed on her face. With only the slightest amounts of red cheeks, Felicia continues by smoothly plucking the kimono and begins placing it onto Elise. And just like that, her new outfit is on.

"See?" Felicia smiles, proud of her swiftness.

"Wow… I barely even noticed that I was… well, naked." Elise, while still flushed, nods with a smile. "And, uh… how often did you do this for him?"

Without a hint of shame, Felicia states, "After he woke up, after I serviced him, after his bath, before and after dinner, and once before he readies for bed. So, about… seven times a day?"

Elise whistles, "I can tell…" A pause, "And how many times did you and him, 'sheet spread' a day?"

Felicia starts giggling, "You mean have sex?" She then pokes her side, "C'mon, just say it once."

Elise puffs her cheek out and huffs, "How many times a day did you and Corrin… um. Had sex?" She immediately looks away.

"On average, two. Once in the morning and once before bed. Usually I gave him a blowjob as he woke up, and I would give him my whole body before it was time to sleep. There were the days when he would be tenser, and I would make sure to service him at least two more times on those days."

"W-w-woah, like… four times… in one day?!" She exclaims, "Is… that even possible?"

"Oh sweet Elise… there are many things you don't know. It is very possible to go many times within a short period… if you know how to properly stimulate your partner." How can she say all of that without any sort of shame?

"S-So… he could… with you, then… with me… and again?" Elise tilts her head.

To only add to her flustered state, Felicia giggles, "Are you interested? Perhaps you're finally ready?"

Elise holds for a moment. "Tonight, then? How about tonight?" She quickly asks.

"We'll ask him tonight, then. Because, I must admit… I'm starting to feel… wound up." Felicia shivers, "It's been a while."

"...It's barely been a week or two since we were at the Fire Tribe village."

Another giggle, "Elise… once you know how wonderful it feels, then every day without it starts to build up very quickly. It doesn't even feel like a 'want' anymore, I… I  **need**  his touch." And at last, Felicia's face is flushed. "I  **need**  to feel him."

Gulping, and feeling a bit heated herself, Elise decides to redirect the topic, "So… shopping?"

Felicia nods, "Shopping it is."

* * *

The two fiances didn't even make it out of the castle before they encountered someone… who surprisingly is  **not**  big sister Camilla. Well, they didn't know this person directly, but the person sorta knew them through her liege, Lord Takumi. Oboro, the Spear Fighter, initially regarded the two women with a fierce scowl, which caused these events to happen…

Elise squealed and stepped behind Felicia. Felicia, in response to Elise's sudden distress, pulls out Khione's Scale… Oboro, in response to Felicia pulling out a weapon, unsheathes her steel-forged Naginata.

"..." Oboro simply stares. "Nohrians."

"I am born in Nohr, yes… but I was raised in the Ice Tribe." Felicia firmly states, much unlike the kinder and slightly suggestive woman she was before they left their room.

"...Felicia?" Oboro slowly relaxes, though her weapon remains unsheathed. "Then, you're Elise? Lord Corrin's… fiances?"

"We are, yes." Felicia nods and Elise slowly peaks her head out.

"My apologies." Oboro finally sheathes her weapon, "I… have had a bad experience with Nohr." The tone in her voice suggests that no more will be spoken of it. "Pardon me." She turns and…

"Hey, uh… Oboro?" Elise asks, causing the Spear Fighter to stop, "Um, is that a… teddy bear? On your back?"

"Is there a problem?" The rise in her tone makes her sound embarrassed.

"No, it's just… I use to have one, too… his name was Mr. Fluffbottoms. He helped gave me good dreams back in… Nohr."

"...His name is Mr. Cuddles." Oboro admits, "He's been… separated from his brother, Mr. Snuggles."

Elise gasps, "Oh no… is Mr. Snuggles okay?!"

A single chuckle leaves Oboro, "Mr. Snuggles is in good hands, the owner just asked me to take care of Mr. Cuddles for a while," and now her voice sounds pained, "So, Mr. Cuddles is with me. I've been giving him careful stitchwork and plenty of high-quality stuffing… so that the day he's reunited with Mr. Snuggles, he'll look even better." A short pause, "I need to go. It was… good meeting you." She rushes off.

"Oboro has had a lot of trouble." Felicia states.

"Huh? You know her?"

Yet, she shakes her head, "No, it's her voice. I can pick up so many conflicting emotions in her voice. Not to mention her body language."

"Hey… Felicia?" Elise asks, "I wanna make her something."

"Is that so?"

"She didn't seem really happy, and I don't like that… I wanna make her  **happy**!" Elise smiles brilliantly. "How about this, you get Corrin a present, and I get Oboro something?"

"By Her Ice… Elise. You are so thoughtful and selfless." Felicia sighs with a smile. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, and I'm sure Corrin will simply be happy just from the thought of you helping someone else."

"So… it's like I'm getting him a gift?" Elise tilts her head.

Felicia bobs her head, "Technically? I guess?"

"Simply giving one's time and attention can be some of the greatest gifts…" The two startle as a soothing voice sounds out from behind them. "Good afternoon, Felicia… Elise." Queen Mikoto. "Please, don't concern yourselves with formality right now." She lets out a gentle laugh.

"...I'm afraid I can't. You  **are**  the Queen… your Highness." Felicia bows.

"And… I grew up a Princess, so… it's an honor to see you, Queen Mikoto." Elise bows.

Queen Mikoto sighs, "Well, I tried… It's good to see you both so up in spirits." The two women rise up, "Now… what's this about gifts, hm?" With that smile on her face, Felicia is assuming she heard them.

"Well… Felicia and I were thinking about getting our love a gift, but then I saw how… not-so-happy Oboro was, and I wanted to get her a gift, and… well, we didn't really bring the treasury with us." Elise winks and giggles.

"You are short-funded, then?" Queen Mikoto smiles. "Well, I can't simply let that happen, now can I?" She unhooks one of the bags on her hip, "Here."

"U-u-uh… this is, like…  **way**  too much." Elise physically steps back.

"We appreciate the thought, your Highness, but we cannot possibly accept an entire sack's worth of gold for some random shopping." Felicia declines with a calmer response.

Queen Mikoto laughs, "Well, I  **did**  bring the treasury with me, so… here." Turning around Elise's jest, the Queen pushes the bag of gold further towards them. "Please, this is barely a scratch in the reserves. Besides," She then  **winks** , "You two are going to be my daughter-in-laws, remember?"

Who knew a Queen could be so… playful? "Well, if you insist." Felicia caves in. "Thank you."

She smiles, "It's of no worry, now… I'm afraid I have to cut this short. One of my retainers is bringing a report to me, and I should probably be in the throne room before she arrives." She waves as she walks away, "Have a wonderful time, you two."

Despite accepting the gold, all Felicia could really do is stare at it. "Gods, I… I don't even… the Ice Tribe never had a use for much gold. We had all we need within reach."

"I usually had everything purchased  **for**  me." Elise nods, "Like, what  **can't**  we buy with this much? There must be like… a bajillion gold coins in here!"

Felicia giggles, "Maybe a hundred or so." She goes to hook the sack of gold onto her own… inside a hidden pocket, actually.

"Heeey… since when did you have secret pockets?" Elise sorta-gripes.

Without missing a beat, she responded with, "Since I have taken up Ninja training." She walks off.

"Oh, I suppose that makes…" A pause as Felicia's words catch up with Elise, "Wait,  **whaaaaat**?! Since  **when**? Felicia! Felicia!? Come right back here and tell me… Felicia~!" Elise jogs to just catch up. "C'mon, tell me…"

"It's a secret, dear." Felicia winks, "A Ninja should never share secrets."

Elise pouts, but then smiles, "Oh, so you also  **won't**  tell me how to get Corrin all… 'excited'?"

The Ice Tribe woman falters, "...some secrets remain hidden." She admits. "You really are looking forward to tonight, aren't you?"

"Yup!" She quickly nods. "Tonight's the night… I  **know**  it! But first, we got shopping to do!"

* * *

The market is as lively as it was the last time they walked around it. Felicia still isn't quite used to the amount of people here, her time in the Ice Tribe had less people than the amount of people around her right now. Even during her time in both the Northern Fortress and Castle Krakenburg hadn't held nearly this amount of people.

Elise, on the other hand, has seen this amount of people concentrated into one spot, but the problem is that… that was during her visits to the slums. Needless to say, nobody out here is starving, begging, or… dead. A welcome difference to be sure.

"So… what first?" Elise asks, "'Cause I dunno, that gold's got me kinda… blank." Smiling, Felicia raises one of her hands, "Huh?" Down goes the thumb, then one finger, two, "Whaddya counting down?" One…

Elise's stomach growls.

"How about some lunch?" The Ice-Blessed suggests.

"Gods Felicia… how can you be so accurate?" Elise tilts her head as Felicia takes the lead… one hand holding the other's.

"I guess I have a sixth sense for you and Corrin." Felicia shrugs it off. "Lunch, hm…"

"Heya! 'Scuse me, mister." Elise suddenly calls out some random person. "Do ya know any good lunch places?"

The man looks Elise, "Well, there's a popular sushi stand not too far from here. It's a bit off to the side, near the Dawn Dragon plaza."

"Sushi?" Elise looks at Felicia. "Would you like some sushi?"

"That sounds lovely." She nods.

Yet, they only took a few steps before Elise asked, "What's sushi? I never heard of it in Nohr. Did the Ice Tribe have it?"

"Well… do you like fish?"

Elise hums, "I dunno, never had it. All the waters in and near Krakenburg are really dirty and a lot of the fish need special treatment to properly eat… which most of the nobles don't even bother with trying to catch them, so…" A short pause, "That means there are so many people in the slums who eat that fish without proper treatment…" Elise trails off.

"...I understand." Felicia nods. "Well, in case you end up not liking sushi, we can always just go somewhere else."

"Alright, sounds good to me." Elise nods. "Let's get some sushi!" With their destination set, the two resume walking through the city. "So, Felicia? You said that instead of hot springs you took… frozen baths?"

Felicia smiles, "That's right. We would chip away at the top frozen layer of the lake, then jump in!" The very thought of such ice cold water puts her in a good mood…

But makes Elise cringe. "I'd think I would turn into a popsicle if I did that." A pause, "I wonder if Rinkah takes like… lava baths?"

"I… don't think so?" Felicia tilts her head, "That would be like me encasing myself in ice. A bit too extreme."

"But… the water is already all steamy and stuff in the hot springs, so what's the next level up?" Elise huffs.

"Boiling water?" Felicia suggests.

"...oh. I guess I can see Rinkah doing that." Looking slightly upwards, the two can see the massive statue of Ushas, Her wings covering the town square. "So, it's… oh, there it is!" Elise points out a small restaurant that has a fair amount of people around it. "Oof, looks super busy."

"Would you rather go to a different place, then?" Felicia asks.

"Nah, I wanna try sushi." The soon-to-be Hoshidan princes resolves as she takes the lead. Felicia smiles as she follows the bright and happy woman. The two walk across the square and to the restaurant…

And it turns out that the 'line' outside of the restaurant is instead people merely eating their food outside and conversing.

"Excuse me…" Felicia politely states as she walks beside Elise and at the counter, where a selection of sushi… would be available, had most of it not been already bought.

"Woooow… super popular, then." Elise gasps. "'Scuse me, sir? What would you recommend for someone who never had sushi?" She dramatically waves the man down.

"A new customer, hm?" He gruffly regards her… but it's the nice kind of sterness. "Well, I do have several recommendations… but most of them are already sold out for the day." He has a confident smile on his face, clearly proud of his work. "I'd recommend something simple and with fewer ingredients, so…" He looks over the selection, before gesturing towards something that looks like it only has two things inside of it, "A tuna roll. It's literally just tuna and scallions."

"Okay, I'd like to try an order of them, please sir." She looks at Felicia, "Watcha gonna get?"

"Oh… this is going to be a stretch, but I don't suppose you have any twice-frozen eel rolls?" She sheepishly smiles.

"...I'm afraid I've never heard of that. But, I do have standard eel rolls." He looks slightly confused.

"Oh, it's alright. I wouldn't expect to see Ice Tribe foods… two orders of eel rolls, one to go." She instead says as she pulls out a handful of gold coins. "Please, keep the remainder." She nods.

Which earns a smile, "Thank you very much." With a speed that clearly shows his experience, he puts two separate orders together, and boxes the third. "Enjoy."

Elise eyeballs her small meal as she and Felicia takes a seat… the Ice Tribe woman has already taken a bite out of hers. "Dear?" She asks after the second bite.

"Oh, sorry…" Smiling, Elise picks up a piece and plops it in her mouth. Seconds pass as Elise seems uncertain on what exactly to think of it. "I think… I need a second one." In goes a second. "Okay… maybe one more." Felicia only shakes her head with a smile. "Alright, the verdict is in!" She proudly declares, "This is pretty good… can I taste one of yours."

Letting out a small giggle, she nods, "Half of one, Eel can get rather… strong."

Without a care in the world, Elise plops the half of a roll into her mouth… then shudders. "Er, yeah…" She downs some water. "I think I'm gonna wanna to work my way up." A short pause, "So, what's the difference between that and a twice-frozen one?"

"It's essentially the same ingredients, but it's frozen, thawed out just enough to keep a few dozen tiny ice crystals, then frozen again and served just as it reaches the same temperature as last time."

"...Then why freeze it twice?"

"The first is specifically for the ice crystals, the second is thought of to sending a duplicate to the Ice Dragon Goddess." She smiles. "I know, it must seem strange to you."

Elise nods, "Yeah, it kinda does,  **but** … I'm also glad to know some more about you and your Tribe. It's really interesting, learning all of these different things other Tribes do." She then tilts her head, "I wonder if the Fire Tribe has like… twice burnt sushi?" She plops another sushi piece in her mouth.

"The Fire Tribe didn't seem to have any fish near them… and nothing that was served to us was charred." She shrugs. "Maybe you should ask Rinkah next time you see her?"

"... **if**  I can find her. I mean, seriously, where  **is**  she? I haven't seen her since we arrived here!" Elise puffs her cheek out. "So… gifts next?"

Felicia hums with a smile. "That sounds wonderful." One more sushi piece down.

* * *

It only took about two dozen 'ooo's and 'how about this?' before Elise settled onto a stall that sold dried flowers and other 'natural' type of accessories. So, her question was, "How about some flowers? Preserved ones, so he doesn't have to worry about keeping them alive?" She looks up to Felicia.

"Which colors?" Felicia looks at the assortment.

"...How about some blue ones and… red?"

"Hoshido and the Water Dragon?" Felicia nods. "A lighter blue and purple?"

"Ice and Dusk?" Elise tilts her head. "Yeah, his clothes n stuff already have Dawn and Water, so… let's do Ice and Dusk." She smiles. "I'll get the Dusk and you get the Ice."

"That sounds good to me… and what are you going to get Oboro?" She asks as she looks over the dried flowers.

"I wanna make her something… something small. Like… I dunno. A hat? No, she's got too much hair. I don't want to give her 'hat hair'." Elise huffs. "Gloves? But… it's kinda warm, uh…"

"How about something for Mr. Cuddles?" Felicia suggests as she picks out a few flowers. "Perfect."

"I could make like, a little sweater for him." Elise nods… but then shakes her head, "No, I don't think Mr. Cuddles would like it that much if I didn't make something for Mr. Snuggles, too." She hums as she picks out her flowers. " **Oh**! I got it… I'll make her a flower necklace! Lemme get some more flowers!" With her resolve set, Elise picks out a few more colors… more in the style of Hoshidan royalty. Some bright red, a few white… and a single purple one. Red on one side, white on the other, and the purple will be in the center. "Alright, I'm ready."

Felicia could only smile as she and Elise purchased the flowers… with 'keep the change' and made their way back to the castle. "Hey, Elise? Would you care if I… well. 'Prepared' you for tonight?"

"Tonight? You… oh." Her face quickly burns red. "C'mon, out here?"

"It just crossed my mind."

"...sure." She nods, "But let's not talk about that right now."

"Fair enough. We do have gifts to ready, after all." A comfortable silence follows.

* * *

Settling back into their room, Elise began working on the flower necklace for Oboro as Felicia simply handed the next flower. "I wonder what our love is up to?" Elise suddenly asks as she weaves in another white flower.

"Enjoying himself, I'm sure." Felicia states as she hands another white flower.

"So… tonight."

"Are you still certain?"

"I'll admit, I'm kinda nervous, buuuuut… I also think I'm ready." White to purple… then to red. Over half way. "And when is the, uh… 'preparation'?" Her face mirrors the bright red flowers.

"After you're finished?"

Elise squeaks, "R-really? That soon? But… we have dinner kinda soon."

"An hour or so, yes. It'll be simple. Just some foreplay." Compared to her flustered state, Felicia remains calm.

"I would ask how your first time was, but…"

"You'd be right… I didn't like it." A solemn atmosphere hangs over now. "As for my first time with Corrin, well… I was too into my role to really care, it was all about him and nothing about me. I suppose the first time I really experienced the excitement was in the Fire Tribe." She smiles, finally at least sort of flushed. "I think your first time will be far better. Just… know that it will hurt a bit for the first few."

"Oh." Elise threads together the last few red flowers.

"Only a bit, after that… pleasure." Elise gently places the flower necklace aside. "So…?"

"Foreplay?" She nods. "Alright, guide me."

"Okay, just… gently lie down and relax." Following her instructions, Elise lies down on the bed, still very much clothed. "I'm going to raise your kimono some." Doing as she announced, Felicia gently pulls up Elise's kimono, stopping a bit from her breasts. Taking her own breath, Felicia steadily presses against Elise's stomach with just enough force for her to really feel it.

And she giggles. "Th-that… kinda tickles and… a bit cold."

"I'm afraid I can't do much for the cold, dear." Felicia shakes her head, "How about this for the ticklish, though?" She presses a bit more, even pushing some of her nails onto her.

"Ooo… okay, that's… kinda tingly." She breathes. "Mmm…" She relaxes into Felicia's soft scratches, and for a few minutes, that's all Felicia really did, just rub and scratch on her stomach. "This feels more like a massage."

"Would you like for me to do a bit more?"

"Y-yeah… what's next?"

"I'm about to raise your kimono up some more." She announces as the clothing goes up and over Elise's relatively small breasts, the younger of the two shivers. "I'm going to resume touching…" Her hands just barely graze Elise's mounds and the other takes a sharp breath.

"...I feel kinda weird now. But… a good weird?" She bites her lip, uncertain at the new feelings.

"It it a sort of… warmth?" Felicia pauses.

"Yeah, tingly warm. Is that normal?"

"Yes, it is." Smiling, Felicia resumes, "take a breath and relax. I'm about to touch a sensitive spot." Elise nods as she takes a breath, then Felicia just gently brushes by her nipple.

Elise gasps as her body twitches a bit. "Whew, um…"

"Are you okay?" Felicia immediately asks, "If it ever becomes too much, let me know, okay?"

"I… I like it. It's just… different." Elise nods, "Anything e-else?"

To which she shakes her head. "That's as far as I will go. Though I'm sure you're feeling really warm… further down."

"I am."

A smirk forms, "That is where our love will be tending to you."

"Oh… oh… okay." A pause, "Hey, what about… kissing? That's not too much, is it?"

Felicia pulls her kimono back down and crawls up, "A few…" With that, Felicia starts the kiss, just gently brushing lips at first. The second one quickly follows up, slightly parted lips and…

"O-okay, I think… that's enough." Felicia stops the moment Elise says that.

"Understood. How are you feeling?"

"Kinda… whew. A bit overwhelmed. Uh, thanks." Elise hums as she just lies there.

"Would you like to try some on me?"

Yet, she shakes her head, "I need some time…"

Felicia smiles, "Not a problem, now…" She rises, "Shall we get ready for dinner?"

"H-huh? Now?!" She squeaks, "I-I feel so… warm and… gods. O-okay. Let's get ready. I'm sure I'll be… 'calmed down' by the time we get there." Elise gets up. "Besides, we got gifts to give!" With the atmosphere slowly winding down, the two ready themselves for dinner…

If only Elise knew how sexually tense that dinner was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off... I did intentionally did not include the bit with Elise being awake and talking to Corrin and Felicia from the main fic. That portion is from Elise's PoV and she was frankly too tired to remember. Now then... Oh, and I tried to keep any serious topics out, but... oh well.
> 
> Felicia the Ninja-Maid. I shall say it here first, there will be Custom Classes in this fic and the first one is... Selena, actually. She is 'A' in swords, 'B' in bows, 'C' in axes, lances, and daggers, 'E' in tomes and staves. Felicia will be, like... 'B' in daggers, 'C' in staves, and... 'D' in swords. I don't have names planned for any of these custom classes, so... feel free to shoot me some.
> 
> Uh, now then, not much else to say, besides stating the obvious.
> 
> Lastly, well, guess what event is going to happen in Chapter 27 of 'Confined' ;)


End file.
